Butler did not lose his presence of mind for a second. In fact Tad had formed his plans, so far as it was possible to form them, before he reached the fire.
Uttering a yell, calculated to strike terror to one who heard it, Tad rolled out on the hearth, his clothes ablaze and his hair almost singed off. The mountaineers still sat in their chairs, lower jaws hanging, eyes bulging.
Without waiting for the men to recover from their surprise, Tad gave a couple of quick rolls. The rolls served to put out some of the fire in his clothes as well as to bring him nearer to the object towards which he was rolling.
The boy's feet came up with great force, and the deal table standing between the two mountaineers rose up into the air, dishes, lamp and all.
Ned uttered a howl, a series of howls. Blood-curdling howls they were, too. He had caught Tad's purpose and was aiding it with all his might.
The lamp, dishes and all went over with a crash. The two men in trying to get out of the way of the flying dishes and lamp both toppled over backward, landing on their backs on the floor. Of course the lamp exploded with a dull "pouff"!
"The door!" Tad commanded sharply. "Run low!"
Ned scrambled to all fours and made for the door dog-fashion. By this time Stillman and Batts had sprung to their feet and drawn their revolvers.
"Shoot! Shoot!" yelled Jay.
"My gun's stuck," howled Batts.