"That is good judgment. But try to keep out of the fire," shouted the professor.
Ned Rector laughed.
"We might better have stayed at the camp if that is all we are going to do," he answered.
Tad saw that several men were riding around in a circle shooting at a fleeing horseman whose rifle spoke often and spitefully. The lad knew that the solitary horseman was the Ranger lieutenant.
"The cowards—-to attack one man that way!" gritted the boy. "Now, fellows," he called, slacking up slightly, "I want you, when I say go, to yell like mad. Whoop it up for all you're worth. Then when I say fire, every man shake out his rifle, but shoot high. We don't want to hit anybody unless we have to. We'll make those fellows think the whole troop of Rangers is turned loose on them. Understand?"
"Good! Excellent head work, Tad. I'm proud of you. But I do hope none of you gets hit."
"If you are afraid, drop back to the rear, Professor," suggested Stacy, whereat chuckles were heard from the others.
The bandits had not discovered the advancing horsemen in the darkness, though had they been less interested in seeking to kill Lieutenant Withem they might have observed the little band that was now sweeping down on them.
"Now! Whoop it up, fellows!" Tad raised his voice to an exultant shout.
Chunky's piercing voice punctured the atmosphere in a blood-curdling shout, a wild warwhoop.