Of course I ain't
afraid of them. I don't want to hurt them, you see."
"I see," observed the professor dryly.
"I've got to get away to-night. If I'm held till morning I'll have to
take you all in. You'll all have to go back with me to State Line
and you'll be locked up for interfering with an officer."
"How comes it that you feared we were Rangers then, if this be true?"
"Aw, I was jest bluffing. I wanted the youngsters to give theirselves
away, you see."
"I see," reflected the professor.
"Then you'll let me out?"
"I am afraid I can't do that."
"Then lean over here and I'll tell you a secret that'll make you change
your mind."
The professor leaned closer. The man's hands, free from the wrists,
were moving cautiously. All at once Professor Zepplin's revolver was
snipped from its holster and a bullet tore through his clothes, taking
some of the professor's skin with it. The professor fell back,
staggering to one side out of range where he sank down to the ground
holding a hand to his side.
CHAPTER VII
RECEIVING A LATE VISITOR
So unexpected had been the shot that, for a few seconds, the boys stood
dumbfounded.
"I'm shot! I'm shot!" yelled the professor.
Bang!
A bullet whistled close to the head of Tad Butler. Stacy Brown, who
was just coming into camp with an armful of dry wood for the campfire,
dropped his burden and with a howl made for shelter.
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