The disturbance had by this time attracted the attention of the men over in the camp. They started on the run when they saw Bud turned head first into the water hole.
By the time they reached the scene Tad and Stacy had succeeded in hauling the victim from his perilous position. Bud was choking between roars of rage. His companions went off into shrieks of laughter when they understood what had happened. They rolled on the ground; they danced about their fallen companion, and then their revolvers began to add their vicious voices to the tumult.
Tad paid no attention to the uproar. He was too busy shaking the water out of his fallen antagonist, to whom he was giving first aid to the drowning.
Bud staggered to his feet, gasped for breath, while Tad stepped off a few paces, so as not to be within reach of those long, bony arms, should Bud decide to stretch them forth and take him in.
"Guess you got all that was coming to you that time, Bud Stevens," grinned Tom Parry. "Served you right. You'll let those boys alone after this or you'll have to reckon with me."
Stevens's face was streaked with wet sand, his hair was disheveled and his clothes stuck to him as if they had been pasted on.
The cowboy's sullen face slowly relaxed into a mirthless grin.
"Say, kiddie, you put it over me like a cactus plant. I owe you two."
"I'd cancel the debt if I were in your place," laughed the boy. "Come along and have a drink of coffee. It'll warm you up after your swim."