The professor held his eye steadily; then abruptly: "Turn out the guard!" he shouted.
"Choke him, you big Dutch fool!" Budd called back in response, as with his bare arms he grappled with an invisible adversary.
He of the straight back and curly hair had been a strong young fellow, but, taken unawares, the contest was bound to go against him. Once, it seemed, he had brought Budd to his knees; once he had nearly hurled him from the rocking car; but his knapsack must have hampered him, and his musket and heavy cartridge box. The bounty jumper fought in silence and with desperate method, gaining advantage every moment; while one hand pinioned a phantom forearm, the other closed with murderous clutch upon a ghostly throat. Meanwhile the professor stood by with folded arms watching critically, one would have thought impartially.
It was over presently, and Budd stood breathing hard. Then—
"Jump for your life!" commanded the professor.
Without an instant's hesitation, Budd crept to the cañon's brink and peered below.
"All right!" he whispered. "Good-by, Dutch! We're free!"
And with a last grasp of the aspen tree he swung himself across the edge and dropped.