CHAPTER V
IN A DESPERATE CONFLICT
A sudden bright flash lighted up the camp, throwing the little whitetents into hold relief against the sombre background of themountains. It was followed after an interval by a low rumble ofdistant thunder that buffeted itself from peak to peak of the Rockies.
The Pony Riders stirred restlessly on their cots and tucked theblankets up under their chins.
Close upon the first report followed another and louder one, that senta distinct tremor through the mountain.
"What's that?" whispered Stacy Brown, reaching from his cot andgrasping Tad Butler by the shoulder.
"A mountain storm coming up," answered the boy, who for some time hadlain wide awake listening to the ever increasing roar. "Go to sleep."
Yet, instead of following his own advice, Tad lay with wide-open eyesawaiting the moment when the storm should descend upon their camp infull force.
He had not long to wait.
With a crash and a roar, as if the batteries of an army had beensuddenly let loose upon them, the elements opened their bombardmentdirectly over the camp.
"Ugh!" exclaimed Chunky in a muffled voice, as he crawled further downunder the blanket to shut out the glare of the lightning.
For a few moments the boys lay thus. Then Tad, rising, slipped to theopening of the tent and looked out wonderingly upon the impressivescene. Each flash appeared to light up the mountains for miles around,their crests lying dark and forbidding, piled tier upon tier, theblue, menacing flashes hovering about them momentarily, then fadingaway in the impenetrable darkness.
The camp appeared to be wrapped in sleep, and, by the bright flashes,Tad observed that the burros of the pack train were stretched outsound asleep, while, off in the bushes, he could hear the restlessmoving about of the ponies, their slumbers already disturbed by thecoming of the storm.
The Pony Riders had been out three days from Pueblo, to which pointthey had journeyed by train, the stock having been shipped there in astable car attached to the same train. In the city of Pueblo theyfound that all preparations for the journey had been made by LigeThomas, the mountain guide whom Mr. Perkins had engaged to accompanythem.
Besides the four ponies of the boys there were the Professor's cob,Thomas's pony and a pack train consisting of six burros, the latter incharge of Jose, a half-breed Mexican, who was to cook for the partyduring their stay in the mountains.
It was a brave and joyous band that had set out from the Colorado cityin khaki trousers, blue shirts and broad-brimmed sombreros for anouting over the wildest of the Rocky Mountain ranges.
By this time the boys had learned to pitch and strike camp in thebriefest possible time--in short, to take very good care ofthemselves under most of the varying conditions which such a life asthey were leading entailed.
They had made camp this night on a rooky promontory, under clear skiesand with bright promise for the morrow.
Tad gave a quick start as a flash of lightning disclosed somethingmoving on the far side of the camp.
"What's that!" he breathed.
With quick intuition, the boy stepped back behind the flap of thetent, and, peering out, waited for the next flash with eyes fixed uponthe spot where he thought he had observed something that did notbelong there.
"Humph! I must be imagining things tonight," he muttered, when, afterthree or four illuminations, he had discovered nothing further.
Tad was about to return to his cot when his attention was once moreattracted to the spot. And what he saw this time thrilled him throughand through.
A man was cautiously leading two of the ponies from camp, just back ofProfessor Zepplin's tent.
The boy paused with one hand raised above his head, prepared to pullthe tent flap quickly back in place in case the stranger chanced toglance that way, all the while gazing at the man with unbelievingeyes.
Was he dreaming? Tad wondered, pinching himself to make sure that hereally was awake.
Once more, impenetrable darkness settled over the scene, and, when thenext flash came the camp had resumed its former appearance.
Tad Butler hesitated only for the briefest instant.
"Ahoy, the camp!" he shouted at the top of his voice, springing outinto the open. "Wake up! Wake up!"
As if to accentuate his alarm, a twisting gust of wind swooped downupon the white village. Accompanied by the sound of breaking ropes andripping canvas, the tent that had covered Professor Zepplin waswrenched loose. It shot up into the air, disappearing over a cliff.
Now the lightning flashes were incessant, and the thunder had becomeone continuous, deafening roar.
Stoical as he was, the Professor, thus rudely awakened, uttered a yelland leaped from his cot, while the boys of the party came tumblingfrom their blankets, rubbing their eyes and demanding in confusedshouts to know what the row was about.
But Lige, experienced mountaineer that he was, instinctively divinedthe cause of the uproar, when, emerging from his tent, he saw Taddarting at top speed across the camp ground.
"The ponies! The ponies!" shouted the boy, as he disappeared in thebushes, regardless of the fact that he was clad only in his pajamas,and that the sharp rocks were cutting into his bare feet likekeen-edged blades.
"What about the ponies?" roared Ned Rector, quickly collecting hiswits and following in the wake of the fleeing Tad.
"Stolen! Two of them gone!" was the startling announcement thrown backto them by the freckle-faced boy.
By this time the entire camp, with the exception of Professor Zepplinand Stacy Brown, had set out on a swift run, following on the trail ofTad.
Ahead of him, the boy could hear the ponies' hoofs on the rocks, andnow and then a distant crash told him they were working up into thedense second growth that he had seen in his brief tour of inspectionearlier in the evening. He realized from the sound that he was slowlygaining on the missing animals.
Tad's blood was up. His firm jaw assumed the set look that it hadshown when he won the championship wrestling match at the high school.
The shouts of the others at his rear, warning him of the danger andcalling upon him to return, fell upon unheeding ears. So intent wasthe boy upon the accomplishment of his purpose that he gave no heed tothe fact that the sounds ahead had ceased, and that only the softpatter of his own feet on the rocks broke the stillness between theloud claps of thunder.
Yet, even if Tad had sensed this, its meaning doubtless would havebeen lost upon him, unused as he was to the methods ofmountaineers. So the boy ran blindly on in brave pursuit of the manwho had stolen their mounts while the Pony Riders slept.
Suddenly, without the slightest warning, Tad felt himself encircled bya pair of powerful arms, and, at the same time, he was lifted clear ofthe ground.
But even then the lad's presence of mind did not desert him, thoughthe vise-like pressure about his body made him gasp.
All his faculties were instantly on the alert. But he realized nowthat his only hope lay in attracting the attention of the others ofhis party, who could be only a short distance away, for he could stillhear their shouts.
"Help!"
Tad's shrill voice punctuated a momentary lull in the storm.
"Coming!" answered the voice of the guide, its strident tones carryingclearly to Tad, filling him with a feeling as near akin to joy as waspossible under the circumstances.
With a snarl of rage the boy's captor suddenly released his holdaround the waist and grasped Tad quickly by the knees. So skilfullyhad the move been executed that Tad Butler found himself dangling,head down, before he really understood what had occurred. His head waswhirling dizzily. He felt his body swaying from side to side, his headdescribing an arc of a circle, as he was rapidly being swung to andfro.
"Where are you, Tad?"
"Here!" came the muffled voice of the boy, too low for the others tocatch.
Tad knew that they would have to hurry if they were to save him, foras soon as the dizzy swinging
of his body began he had understood thepurpose of his captor. At any second the boy might find himself flyingthrough space--perhaps over a precipice. It plainly was the intentof the man to hurl the boy far from him, as soon as Tad's body shouldhave attained sufficient momentum to carry it.
However, before the fellow was able to put his desperate plan fullyinto execution, Tad, with the resourcefulness of a born wrestler,suddenly formed a plan of his own.
As his body swung by that of his captor, the boy threw out his hands,clasping them about the left leg of the other and instantly lockinghis fingers.
It seemed as if the jolt would wrench his arms from their sockets. YetTad held on desperately. And the result, though wholly unexpected bythe mountaineer, was not entirely so to Tad. He had figured--hadhoped--that a certain thing might occur. And it did.
The man's left leg was jerked free of the ground, and before he wasable to catch his balance the fellow fell heavily on his side. Tad,with keen satisfaction, heard him utter a grunt as he struck. Butbefore the boy could release himself he was grabbed and pulled up overhis adversary by the latter's left hand, his right still beingpinioned under his own body. Yet the mountaineer's move had not beenentirely without results favorable to his captive.
"I'll kill you for this!" snarled the man, fuming with rage.
Tad, groping for a wrestler's hold, felt his hand close over the hiltof a knife in the man's belt. And, as the boy was hauled upward, theblade came away from its sheath, clasped in Tad's firm grip.
But not even with this deadly weapon in hand did Tad Butler for asecond forget himself. He flung the knife as far from him as hispartly pinioned arms would permit, and, with keen satisfaction, heardit clatter on the rocks several feet away.
"You'll do it without that cowardly weapon, then!" gasped the boy.
Though thoroughly at home in a wrestling game, Tad knew that he wouldbe no match for the superior strength of his antagonist. So, resortingto every wrestling trick that he knew, he sought to prevent the fellowfrom getting the right arm free. However, the most the lad could hopeto accomplish would be to delay the dreaded climax for a minute ormore.
With an angry, menacing growl, the mountaineer threw himself on hishack, hoping thereby to free the pinioned arm.
"Now, I've got you, you young cub!"
Instantly, both of Tad's knees were drawn up and forced down with allhis strength on his adversary's stomach. From the growl of rage thatfollowed, Tad had the satisfaction of knowing that his tactics had notbeen without effect.
"You--you only think you have," retorted the boy, breathing heavilyunder the terrible strain.
The mountaineer might now have hurled the boy from him. To do this,however, would have been giving Tad an opportunity to escape, of whichhe would have been quick to take advantage; and so, gulping quick,short breaths, and struggling with his slightly built adversary, Tad'scaptor finally managed to throw the lad over on his back.
So heavily did Tad strike that, for the moment, the breath was fairlyknocked from his body.
Recovering himself with an effort, he raised a piercing call for help.
All grew black about him. He no longer saw the brilliant flashes oflightning that at intervals lighted up the scene, nor heard the voicesof his companions frantically calling upon him to come back. Themountaineer's sinewy fingers had closed in an iron-grip over TadButler's throat.