The Pony Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers Part 11

"Where?"

"I don't know. Is there any town near here?"

"Some twenty miles to the southeast, I believe," answered the professor.

"Then that is where we must take him."

"We may find, then, that we have made a mistake," objected the professor, still doubtful about the wisdom of the course proposed by Tad Butler.

"Then we will make a complaint against him ourselves," answered Tad firmly. "I don't propose to let him off after what he has done. Why, were we to let that man go our lives wouldn't be worth a cent. He would shoot us before the night was over. No, Professor, he must be held prisoner until we can get him to town."

"But we can't go on to-night."

"No. The morning will be time enough. We will give him some food."

"Let me feed the animal," urged Stacy.

"You have steady business performing that office for yourself,"

retorted Ned Rector.

"In the morning we will take him to town. Shall we get some supper now?"

"Yes. I will think over your proposal in the meantime. Stacy, you might gather some more wood for the fire. Ahem! This has been a most remarkable proceeding all the way through."

"You would have thought so if that fellow had jumped on you as he did on me," growled Ned Rector. "I thought the mountain had fallen down on me. He is bad medicine."

Tad by this time was getting out the things for supper. They were late with this meal owing to circ.u.mstances over which they had not had full control, though matters were now pretty well in the hands of the Pony Rider Boys.

"You had better tell us who and what you are. You have heard what has been said here, my man," said the professor returning to the prisoner.

"I reckon I've heard enough. I reckon, too, that you've made a mistake.

I ain't what you think. I'll tell you, now that the fresh young feller isn't listening."

"Do so," urged Professor Zepplin, preparing to listen.

"Lean over so the others won't hear."

"Surely."

"You're a right smart old party and I don't mind talking to you, for you've got right smart sense and you'll understand what I'm getting at."

"Say what you have to say, my man. I am listening."

"Between you and me I'm an officer. I'm looking for some parties that have been cutting up didoes down in these parts of late. When I saw your party I thought you were the lawbreakers, so I up and let go.

I saw that there were too many for me and it was the only chance I had to---"

"But surely you didn't have to kill us."

"I didn't kill you, did I?"

"True; true."

"I was telling you, I thought you were they and I let go a few shots, just as a tickler. You see, I could have picked you off one at a time just as easy as eating pie. I'm a dead shot, I am."

"Then you only sought to drive us off?" questioned the professor.

"Yes, that's it. You're a wise old party. They're a bad lot, you know."

"But what about this a.s.sault on my boys?" demanded the professor.

"Same thing. I thought they were them."

"Your grammar is shocking, my man, but what you say is deserving of careful consideration. You say you took us to be bad men?"

"Sure I did."

"Who did you think we were?"

"Tuck O'Connor and his crowd."

"Who are they?"

"Well, you see, they do some smuggling over the Rio Grande. Then again, they are up to a few other tricks that the public hasn't got on to yet. What I want to do is to get away from here, quiet-like, so the youngsters won't get wise in time to cut up. 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