Indian twine round the legs of a running animal, and the sudden jerk threw the boy down.
He was up again directly, and turned to run and untwist the line, but it was only to rush into the man’s arms, and be thrown, when with a foot upon his chest the fellow began to try and tear the line from his hands.
But Joe’s blood was up now, and he held on with all his might, turning himself over so as to get the reel beneath his chest.
“Gwyn! Gwyn! Help!” he shouted.
“All right!” came from behind him, and his comrade, who had been in pursuit, pitched heavily on to the man’s back, when a trio in struggling commenced, the boys holding on with stubborn determination, and their enemy beginning to strike out savagely with fist and elbow.
It was only a question of minutes, and then the boys would have been completely mastered. In fact, it had reached the pitch when the man had them both at his mercy and was kneeling between them, holding each by the throat, and forcing them back on the heather, when there was a loud whistle, the sound of a heavy blow, and the fellow uttered a savage yell as he sprang up and turned upon a fresh adversary. But whish! crash! the sounds were repeated, followed by a savage shout, and the man beat a retreat.
For Colonel Pendarve had come panting up at the sight of the struggle, and, bringing to bear his old cavalry officer’s skill, delivered three slashing sabre cuts with his heavy cane, the first from the right, the second from the left shoulder, putting the enemy thoroughly to rout. For the man left the trophies of the fight in the boys’ hands, made for the road, and disappeared over the wall.