All this happened in what Billie afterwards described as “three shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Up to that time the man who had been so taken by surprise had not thought to give a shout; he had followed out the instinct a cowboy always has actuating him; but now that he was in the toils beyond any possibility of freeing himself through his own exertions the fellow remembered that he had companions.
He let out a whoop that would have awakened men in even a more drunken stupor than those who lay there.
Adrian had not been idle, however, during these few seconds of time. Having mapped out his little plan of campaign beforehand he knew what was expected of him. Jumping across the space that separated him from the fire he pounced upon one of the rustlers, and snatched his gun the first thing. That rendered a second fellow next to helpless, for a bad man without his gun is never very dangerous.
Adrian threw the rifle forward, and covered the next man as he was trying to get to his knees.
“Lie down, you, or it’ll be the worst job you ever tackled!” he cried out; and the swing of that rifle convinced the rustler that he had better do as he was told; so he flattened himself out on his face, and remained there motionless, possibly trying to collect his muddled wits and reason it all out.
There was still one more, but Billie had looked out for him. Making threatening motions with his extended rifle as he pushed forward the fat boy confronted this rustler, still sitting there on the ground, and blinking like an owl might on being thrust into an electric glow.
When he saw that it was a boy in front of him, a fat good-natured lad at that, the puncher made as if to reach for his weapon, whereupon Billie thrust out his rifle still closer and shouted:
“Don’t you dare touch it, do you hear! I’ll pull this trigger as sure as my name’s Broncho Billie, and whiff you go into the next world! Hold up both hands before you’re riddled! Want me to give the signal for a dozen guns to blaze away all around you? Don’t you know you’re surrounded by an army? Hold ’em up, higher than that, mister, if you know what’s good for you.”
Donald put an end to the anxiety by suddenly darting forward and whipping the gun out of the rustler’s holster. He had already secured the weapon belonging to the fellow whom Adrian had subdued, so
that the enemy was now powerless to do them any immediate injury.