Tad was not yelling now. He was fairly flying, running on his toes and seeking to do so without making the slightest sound.
The men quickly untangled themselves and with yells of rage bounded from their camp in search of the one who had caused so much disturbance. It had all happened so quickly that they had not succeeded in getting a good look at their tormentor.
"It's a boy!" roared Bluff. "Catch him. No, shoot! Don't let him get away!"
"Where is he!"
"I don't know. Fan the bushes, fan everything. We've got to get him!"
"Keep it up. Do you see him?"
"No."
As Tad heard the bullets snipping the leaves over his head, he instinctively ducked and, turning sharply to the left, skulked through the trees. By the flickering light of the camp fire he had seen something that gave him a sudden idea.
"Watch out. There he is?"
"Where, where?"