Then he was gone.
Browning gave Toots a sharp shake, fiercely whispering:
“Mount your wheel and keep with us if you want to save your scalp! If you don’t you will be left behind.”
Then the boys leaped upon their bicycles and were away in a moment, before the prostrate Indians had recovered from the shock of terror given them by the appearance of the skeleton horse and rider.
For the time Bruce Browning took the lead, and the others followed him. Toots had heeded the big fellow’s warning words, and he was not left behind.
Barely had they passed beyond the range of the firelight and disappeared in the darkness when wild yells of anger came from behind them, and they knew the Indians had discovered they were gone.
“Bend low! bend low!” hissed Diamond. “They may take a fancy to shoot after us! Stoop, fellows!”
Stoop they did, bending low over the handlebars of their bicycles.
Bang! bang! bang!
The Indians fired several shots, and they heard some of the bullets whistle past, but they were not hit.