The Pony Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers Part 8

"The band or the man?" questioned Tad.

"That was the man's name. Billy McKay. He's a captain of Rangers, or something of the sort, it doesn't matter much what."

"I rather think it does," answered Butler dryly.

"How so?"

"Why, don't you see, it means that if the Texas Rangers are after this fellow he must be wanted for something very serious. Who is he?"

"You may search me. Stacy may be right after all. There are plenty of Germans in Mexico, so why not some of them up here to stir up trouble? He looks like pictures I have seen of some of those Hun a.s.sa.s.sins," declared Ned Rector.

"I think I will search him. He may have some more weapons about his person."

Tad found a bowie knife in the mountaineer's boot, but that was the only weapon left on his person. Tad threw the knife away. About this time the prisoner began to show signs of returning consciousness.

"You must have hit him an awful wallop," wondered Ned, standing over the man and eyeing him narrowly.

"I did. I hit him first with a stone, then with my fist. I skinned my knuckles, too."

Ned grunted.

"I'd hate to have you land on me that way. That surely was a sockdolager. He has his eyes open."

"Oh, hullo!" greeted Butler. "We rather turned the tables on you, didn't we?"

"I'll kill you for this!" growled the prisoner hoa.r.s.ely.

"I don't think you will kill anybody to-night. What I would like to know is what you mean by trying to shoot us up."

"I'll shoot up the rest of you before I get through with you, you and your whole gang. You can tell Bill McKay what I say and---"

"We don't know Bill McKay. We have nothing to do with any of you people down here. We are here for pleasure."

"That's what the other cayuse said. Looks like you wuz, hey?"

"You alone are to blame for present conditions. We were not looking for you. You began shooting at us before we got into the foothills.

Who were you shooting at the last time? I mean before you tried to pot me just now."

A growl was the only answer.

"The question is, what are we going to do with this fellow, Tad?" asked Ned. "Surely it won't be safe to let him go, and we can't leave him here to starve to death."

"No. I'll tell you what. We will fix up a litter---by the way, fellow, are there any more of your kind fooling about here?"

"You'll find out whether there are or not," grunted the prisoner.

"Thank you. You have answered my question. I now know you are alone.

Ned, can you cut down a couple of saplings?"

"Where do you want to carry him?"

"Down to the fork."

"Then let's drag him. Dragging is good enough for that ruffian---too good for him. He ought to be shot, then rolled down the hill."

"Don't be bloodthirsty. Prisoners of war should be treated with the utmost courtesy and consideration. I guess perhaps we had better not take the time to make a litter. We can carry him down to the fork.

Take hold of the feet. I'll take the heavier end. And you, fellow!

You will get along much better if you keep quiet. Remember, no yells nor struggles, else I shall be obliged to put you to sleep as I did a short time since. Do you understand?"

There was no reply to the question.

"All right. Pick him up, Ned," directed Tad.

"Are you going to take his rifle?"

"Yes, I guess perhaps it would be best. The rifle is good evidence,"

decided Butler.

Tad strapped the weapon to his own back. He did not bother to pick up the revolver or the bowie knife. The rifle was the evidence that he wanted to take with him. Then they gathered their prisoner up. He proved a heavy burden, though fortunately the distance was short to the fork where Tad had decided to carry the man. The fellow had nothing to say, but the expression in his eyes made up for what his lips did not utter. The two boys were glad enough when finally they reached their destination and dropped their burden, though none too gently at that.

"Now what?" demanded Ned.

"I want you to hurry over to where the ponies are tethered, then ride to the outfit. Tell them to pack up and move over here at once."

"Give me a signal before you come into the gulch here. I'll answer it if all is right. Then you may come in without fear."

"What are you going to do?"

"I am going to stay here to keep our friend company. He might get lonesome if we were to leave him alone," chuckled Tad. "Get back as soon as you can. I'll have a fire built, then we'll get supper. Did you know this fellow took another shot at Chunky?"

"No. Was that what he shot at?"

"That was it."

"I hope he didn't hit him."

"I guess not."

"Chunky seems to be getting more than his share of lead to-day,"

answered Rector with a chuckle. "Serves him right. It'll teach him to be more prudent."

"I don't think you are exactly in the position to say much yourself,"

replied Tad, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Ned flushed to the roots of his hair.

"For goodness' sake, don't tell the crowd how I got jumped on. I am as easy as a baby. I'll never call myself a mountaineer again."