Then he urged Buckey on faster.
That one act convinced Tad that the redskin had no loaded rifle, else
he would have used it at that moment.
With a yell of triumph the boy touched the pony with the rowels of his
spurs. Silver Face shot ahead like a projectile. He was a tough
little pony, and besides, his mettle was up. Now Tad gained foot by
foot. He was almost up to the Indian, yelling like an Indian himself.
The redskin tried dodging tactics, hoping that Tad would shoot past him.
Tad did nothing of the sort. The boy was watching his man with keen
but glowing eyes. The call of the wild was strong in Tad Butler at that
moment.
Suddenly the boy drew alongside. Utterly regardless of the danger to
himself, he did a most unexpected thing. Tad threw himself from his
own racing pony, landing with crushing force on top of the Indian.
Of course the two men tumbled to the ground like a flash. Then
followed a battle, the most desperate in which Tad ever had been
engaged. The boy howled lustily and fought like a cornered mountain
lion. Of course his strength was as nothing compared with that of the
Indian. All Tad could hope to do would be to keep the Indian engaged
until help arrived.
Help did arrive within two minutes; help in the shape of Jim Nance, who,
with the thought of his slain hounds rankling in his mind, was little
better than a savage for the time being.
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