"Too bad," muttered Tad. "It's a shame I had to desert the broncho. He did me a good service."
The men galloped by a few feet from the boy's hiding place and came to a halt beside the prostrate pony. His straining ears caught their every word.
When they began to shoot, Tad flattened himself still more, instinctively. Some of the bullets passed close beneath him, and he wished that he might have chosen a higher tree in which to hide.
Bang!
It seemed to have cut the leaves just behind his head.
Tad repressed a shiver and shut his lips tightly together. He was determined not to permit himself to feel any fear.
At last the men joined each other right under the tree in which he was hiding. Tad fairly held his breath.
"Well, what do you think, Cap?"
"Don't think. I know. The cayuse has given us the slip."
"No, not much use looking for him. Better wait here till morning then try to trail him down, if we don't find him laid out somewhere in the bushes round here," suggested one.