"I'm going to. Oh, what I won't do to that guide when I do catch him!" gritted Tad.
"Yes, when you do."
Butler put on a fresh burst of speed, touching the ground only with his toes, as he ran, leaving Ned still farther behind.
"Gracious, I didn't think Tad could sprint like that," gasped Rector.
"Wait for me," howled Chunky, now far to the rear.
The boys got to laughing so heartily at this that Chops gained several rods on them, but Tad quickly closed up the gap and was soon drawing down on Billy Veal at a killing pace. The guide was a good runner, but he did not have the staying powers possessed by Tad Butler. Tad, no doubt, could have run all night had such a thing been necessary, for he was a strong, healthy boy with not an ounce of extra flesh on his body, and his muscles were of the quality of pliant steel.
Tad now drew out to one side and a few minutes later he passed the man they were chasing, though Veal did not know of this. The colored man came tearing along at almost express train speed, when Tad's rope wriggled through the air. The throw was a true one. The loop landed fairly over the head and shoulders of Chops, was drawn taut by the runner himself, and in the next instant Billy Veal stood pivoting on his head on the ground.
"Gracious, I hope he hasn't broken his neck," cried Tad. "I—I didn't think he would go down so heavily as that."
"Where is he? Where is, the guide?" shouted Ned Rector, coming up with a splendid burst of speed, and not breathing hard at all.
"Look out, or you'll step on him," warned Tad.