“Nonsense; they are miles behind us,” observed Nestor.
“Well, they’re some kind of cowboys, anyhow,” cried Jerry. “And they’re after us.”
Bang! bang! went the guns. “Whoop!” yelled the cattlemen who were riding like mad. “Stop the horse thief!” they shouted.
Nearer and nearer came the cattlemen, a bunch similar to those who had wanted to run the auto.
“They seem to be after us,” observed Bob.
“We haven’t stolen any horses,” said Ned.
“What’s all the noise about?” asked Professor Snodgrass, suddenly becoming aware that there was some commotion. He was riding close to the auto.
There came a hissing, whistling sound in the air. A long, thin line shot forward. A loop settled around the professor’s neck. The next instant he was jerked, none too gently, from the back of his horse and fell to the ground. He had been lassoed from behind by one of the cowboys.
Jerry shut off the power and the auto stopped. In a few seconds it was surrounded by a crowd of angry men. Several of them drew their revolvers, while two or three busied themselves in securely binding the poor professor.
“What’s all this for?” asked Nestor, getting ready to draw his gun.