"What shall we do with him, then?"
"I want to have a talk with the fellow when I have finished my job. You hold him right where he is, old boy."
"Oh, I'll hold him all right. I'm keeping my eyes on a spot right behind his left ear. It's the prettiest mark you ever saw."
Tad grinned appreciatively. He was proud of Stacy Brown, for Stacy had distinguished himself and shown his pluck beyond any doubt.
The boy, tugging at the deer, finally succeeded in getting it to the back of his horse, where he lashed the carcass, the stranger watching the operation out of the corners of his eyes, and admitted to himself that he had made a mistake in his reckonings. Tad knew his business. The fellow could see that. The fat boy knew his business, too, as earlier events had demonstrated, and to the undoing of the woodsman.
"There, I guess the carcass will stay on until we get home. I hope we make it before dark," exclaimed Tad as he completed his task.
"What about the man?" inquired Stacy.
"Keep him covered until I tell you to let go."
Butler gathered up the man's revolver and rifle, from both of which he extracted the shells. Handing the latter to the fellow, he directed him to put the shells in his pocket.
Next Tad handed the man his weapons.