"We won't, and don't you throw any more stones," ordered the tramp. "Jerry, turn your pistol loose on the young cubs if they throw another stone. Giddap!"
"That's a bluff. You haven't any pistol," Dick called to the tramps coolly. "Just start that horse, and we'll knock both your heads off with stones. We know how to throw 'em."
Splash! Greg Holmes had taken to the narrow river. Now he was striking out lustily for the other side. In case the horse was started Holmes would be there, with a handful of stones with which to bombard the fugitives in passing.
"You fellers quit throwing stones, or you're going to get hurt!"
But the pause had accomplished the very thing for which Dick had waited.
"Throw another stone," repeated the tramp, "and you'll get——-"
"Oh, tell it to the Senate!" broke in Tom Reade, climbing into the wagon and seizing the speaker. Dave, who had crept up with him, had gripped the other tramp by the collar.
Both tramps were thrown from the seat. Ere they could recover from their astonishment, Reade and Darrin had leaped down upon their tormentors.
"In with them!" ordered Dick.
Two splashes, occurring almost in the same second, testified to the tackling skill that Reade and Darrin had acquired on the gridiron.