Around and around rode Woofer, waiting for a good chance for a cast, but always finding Ted alert. But suddenly the rope flew from his hand with unerring accuracy, and Ted had just time to dodge it. It had been as swift and almost as deadly as the strike of a rattlesnake.
With a confident smile, Woofer drew in his rope again, coiling it, and making ready for another cast.
Again he circled and cast, and this time the rope settled over Ted's shoulders, and a great shout went up from the soldiers.
But before Woofer could tighten it Ted managed to wriggle out of it, and again Woofer drew it in.
Ted realized the danger in which he would stand if ever Woofer succeeded in getting him fast.
Suddenly his hand came in contact with something hard in his pocket. It was his knife, and he surreptitiously inserted his hand, and opened it, then drew it out concealed in his palm. He felt sure that if it was discovered that even this chance would be taken from him.
Again and again Woofer cast and Ted dodged, and the soldiers were getting tired of the monotony of it, and began to deride Woofer for not being able to get Ted.
This aroused the man to anger, and the next time he sent the rope over Ted's shoulders, and drew it taut. A wild cry went up as Ted was being dragged along as fast as he could run, and Stella turned white and gave a cry of fear.
But Ted reached up, just as he was about to be carried off his feet, and cut the rope in two.
At this a yell of protest rose from Woofer, but the men had at last turned with sympathy to Ted.