"Yip!" he shouted to the pony, accentuating his command by a sharp blow with the quirt.
The pony leaped forward.
"Here, he's not up there; he's in the river I tell you!" shouted the foreman.
Tad had driven his mount straight up the bank behind them. He paid no attention to the warning of the foreman, having already mapped out his own plan of action.
Reaching the top of the sloping bank, Tad pulled his pony to the right and dashed along the bluff, headed down the river.
"Watch your lines or you'll have the wagon overboard, too," he called back. "I'll get Pong out."
Big-foot Sanders scratched his head reflectively.
"Ain't the Pinto the original whirlwind, though?" he grinned. "I never did see the like of him, now. He'll get that heathen out while we are standing here trying to make up our minds what to do."
"Yes, but I'm afraid the Chinaman will drown before Tad gets to him," said the foreman, with a shake of his head. "Here, don't let go of this rope while you are staring at the kid. I can't hold it alone."
Tad drove his pony to its utmost speed until he had reached a point some little distance below where the head of the Chinaman had last been seen.