“Don’ yo’ shoot, good Mistar Injunses!” he shouted. “I’s jes’ a common brack nigger, an’ I ain’t no ’count nohow. Mah scalp wouldn’ be no good teh yo’ arter——”
Then he took a header off his wobbling machine and fell directly before Jack, whose bicycle struck his body, and Diamond was hurled to the ground.
“Stop, fellows!” cried Merriwell. “We mustn’t run away and leave them! Come back here!”
From his wheel he leaped to the ground in a moment, running to Diamond’s side. Grasping Jack by the arm he exclaimed:
“Up, old fellow—up and onto your wheel! We may be able to get away now! We’ll make a bluff for it.”
But it was useless, for Jack was so stunned that he could not get on his feet, though he tried to do so.
Toots was stretched at full length on the ground, praying and begging the “good Injunses” not to bother with his scalp, saying the hair was so crooked that it was “no good nohow.”
Up came the redskins on a run and surrounded the boys, Bruce and Harry having turned back.
Browning assumed a defensive attitude, muttering:
“Well, if we’re in for a scrap, I’ll try to get a crack at one or two of these homely mugs before I’m polished off.”