"Don't kill the poor scoundrel, Dad!" yelled Tad, dancing about the pair.
But still Nance continued to hammer the now unresisting Indian.
"Stop it, Dad—-stop it!" Tad called sternly.
Then, as nothing else promised to avail, Tad rushed once more into the fray.
Dad was weakening from his own enormous expenditure of strength.
"Don't go any farther, Dad," Tad coaxed, catching one of Nance's arm and holding on.
"I guess I have about given the fellow what he needed," admitted the guide, rising.
As he stood above the Indian, Dad saw that the man did not move.
"I hope you didn't kill him, Dad," Tad went on swiftly.
"Why?" asked Jim Nance curiously.