"We're coming up on him," cried Jake.
"Halt!" bellowed the leader.
The pony in the lead did not slacken its speed in the least.
Bluff repeated his command, but still without perceptible result.
"Halt or we shoot!"
Tad Butler made no reply. He was leaning far over on the pony's neck now. In this position he was less likely to be swept off by limbs, and, again, were they to fire on him as they had threatened, there was a much better chance of the shots going harmlessly over, instead of through him. Thus far their marksmanship had been poor.
This was the second time the lad had been under fire, the first having been in the battle of the mountaineers, when the Pony Riders were in the Rocky Mountains, on which occasion Tad had conducted himself with such coolness and bravery.
Tad realized no fear, however. It thrilled him. A strange sense of elation possessed him. He felt strong and resourceful—he felt that he would be willing to do or dare almost anything.
"Let him have it!" commanded the leader sternly.
The men obeyed instantly.