"Let him have the knife," they cried. "You have the horse and the rope."
Woofer was forced to be content, and he slowly dragged the rope back again, and made a new noose.
He was getting rattled, while Ted was gaining courage, and the rope did not come as accurately as when Woofer had not begun to grow weary.
The soldiers were now addressing rough pleasantries at Woofer, who was growing angry and trying harder than ever to rope Ted and drag him to death.
Then, quite unexpectedly, the rope settled over Ted's arms, for he had grown a little careless, and his eyes had been directed toward the top of the hill behind the cabin, where he had seen something that caused his eyes to open with wonder.
But when he felt himself being dragged along on a run he came to his senses. Stooping his head, he managed to get the knife between his teeth. Then he went along the rope, gathering it in his hands as he went, as if he were climbing it hand over hand.
A shout of joy went up from the two girls at this, for they saw his purpose.
On he went, the rope coming into his hand and being coiled on his arm. Woofer all the while was urging on his pony, trying to throw Ted off his feet.
Ted had now gathered in about thirty feet of the rope, or about half of it.
Woofer saw his game, and swore horribly, as he tried in vain to throw Ted.