He staggered to his feet, swaying, groaning,
shoulders hunched forward, chin on his breast.
Young Butler was upon him like a whirlwind.
Whack!
Tad's fist caught the mountaineer squarely on the point of the jaw as
the man raised his head half defiantly, one hand groping awkwardly for
his pistol.
The fellow went down in a heap.
"Whoop!" howled Ned Rector. "That's the blow that put the finishing
touches to father. Cut me loose! Cut me loose! Quick, Tad! He'll
be up in a minute!"
Butler had no need to be told this. He knew the first thing to be
done was to secure the prisoner. Ned could wait. The danger lay
with the man stretched out there on the ground. Tad worked rapidly.
His rope was jerked free from his belt. Three swift turns were made
about the body of the prostrate man, binding the fellow's arms firmly
to his sides.
Next Tad jerked the mountaineer's revolver from its holster and cast it
into the bushes. Then he tied the man's ankles together, after which
he straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face and forehead.
"Whew! Warm, isn't it, Ned?"
"Rather," drawled Rector. "Warmer for some folks than others. It
came near being pretty warm for you. Are you going to cut me loose,
or am I to stay tied to this tree for the rest of the night?"
"I guess we will let you up now. We shall have to wait until our
friend there comes to his senses before going farther.
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