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Tad, groping for a wrestler's hold, felt his hand close over the hilt of a knife in the man's belt. And, as the boy was hauled upward, the blade came away from its sheath, clasped in Tad's firm grip. But not even with this deadly weapon in hand did Tad Butler for a second forget himself.
Tad knew that they would have to hurry if they were to save him, for as soon as the dizzy swinging of his body began he had understood the purpose of his captor. At any second the boy might find himself flying through space perhaps over a precipice. It plainly was the intent of the man to hurl the boy far from him, as soon as Tad's body should have attained sufficient momentum to carry it.
Throwing them off with a prodigious effort he scrambled to his feet, dust-covered, hatless and with hair in a sad state of disorder. Professor Zepplin had thrust the other boys aside and was gripping Tad's hands. "It's the last time you ever get me to consent to your taking such a chance," he said. "How did you get out? You certainly did not climb up the side of the mountain."
Though he was not looking toward Tad's tent, the lad felt sure the fellow had been placed there to watch him. He understood then why Jinny had not been to the tepee since bringing his meal. Finally the camp quieted down, the fires smouldered and the dogs stretched out before them for sleep.
Smith patted him on the back. "Lord love you, pard!" he chuckled, "I'm no spring chicken. I'm as hard to open as a safe, I am. It takes a can opener to get anything out of me." "Yes; well, you can get inside some folks easier with a corkscrew. I've been told that Tad's a kind of a medium sometimes. If he raises any spirits in that back room of his, I'd leave 'em alone, if I was you.
Early in the morning the three boys and Professor Zepplin had followed Tad's trail for some distance into the foothills, but feared to penetrate too far for fear of getting lost. The Professor reasoned that it would be much better to return to camp and give Tad a chance to find his way in in case he himself should prove to have been lost.
When the sun went down he seemed no nearer to the object of his search than when he had set out at daybreak. The lad, after looking about, came upon a tree which he climbed in order to get an unobstructed view of the country. He argued that camp-fires would be lighted for the evening meal. Not a sign of smoke could he discover anywhere. Tad's heart sank.
The pony swerved ever so little, Tad's body swept down, and when it rose, his fingers were fastened in the shirt collar of his companion, with Chunky yelling and choking, as he was being dragged over the ground at almost a killing pace. Tad had no time to do more than hold on to his friend. He dared not stop to lift him to the saddle just then.
To do this, however, would have been giving Tad an opportunity to escape, of which he would have been quick to take advantage; and so, gulping quick, short breaths, and struggling with his slightly built adversary, Tad's captor finally managed to throw the lad over on his back. So heavily did Tad strike that, for the moment, the breath was fairly knocked from his body.
Tad's opponent, suddenly braced his pony, while the boy's mount raced straight ahead. The result of this move was that Tad Butler was torn from his saddle, fetching away the stirrup box on one side with him. He struck the ground violently, and for a moment lay still, while the cowboy sat grinning, making no effort to learn how badly his adversary was hurt.
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