The cowboys did not know what had happened, but they knew that the boy from the Simms ranch had done something to their companion that for the instant had taken all of the fight out of him.
Tad had been only partly responsible for Bob's present condition, however. By jerking his head to one side he had caused the mountain boy's fist to strike the hard roadbed instead of Tad's head.
Bob struggled to his feet, holding the right wrist with the left hand and moaning with pain. The right hung limp. Tad knew what had happened.
"He's broken his wrist. I'm glad I didn't have to do it for him," said the lad.
At first glowering glances were cast in Tad's direction. They were of half a mind to punish him in their own way.
"You said it was to be a fair fight," spoke up the lad. "Has it been?"
There was a momentary silence.
"The kid's right," exclaimed a cowman. "He cleaned up Bob fair and square. I reckon you kin go, now."
"Thank you."
"Hold on a minute. Not so fast, young fellow. I'm kinder curious like to know how ye put Bob over yer head like that!" asked another.