Then Higgins began to draw in on the rope, pulling the startled youth toward him. Pike tried to cast the noose off, and, failing in that, sought for his knife.
All the while Higgins was drawing the scared student toward him, making the air blue with his exclamatory questions and objurations.
“I’ll learn ye some sense!” Higgins howled. “I’ll wring yer neck fer ye, b’jings! I’ll hang ye up on one o’ these hyer trees fer the crows to eat! That’s what! Why, you stepfather to a hoss-thief——”
He almost fell to the ground as the rope parted under a cutting slash from Pike’s knife, and, having freed himself, Pike darted away, with Higgins bellowing at his heels.
Merriwell and Browning came down the steps, having heard the outcry.
“What’s up?” Frank demanded.
Higgins turned back, finding Pike too light-footed for him. He brought with him the rope which Pike had dropped in his flight.
“Some feller slammed this hyer round my neck as I come down the steps!” Higgins declared. “One o’ yer dinged student friends, I reckon, fer no real cowboy’d do another cowboy sich a measly trick as that. Playin’ cowboy! Well, if I git my hands onto him, he won’t monkey no more with yer Uncle William!”
The mask-ball was the success Don Pike had known it would be. Everybody praised it and its excellent arrangements.