Whack! As the man pounced on him, Ralph’s fist shot out like a piston rod on a compound engine.
It appeared to have almost as much “kick,” too, for the man went down like a stone and lay on the ground, using bad language and threatening the Border Boys with all sorts of terrible things.
“Stop using profanity,” advised Ralph; “it never did anybody any good and never will. Besides, we don’t care to hear it. Good night.”
“I’ll fix you, you young jackanapes,” screamed the man, still, however, not rising from the ground. “How dare you strike me? How dare you——”
“Remember, I warned you not to interfere with us,” rejoined Ralph, perfectly coolly; “you have only yourself to blame. I simply defended myself against an unjustifiable assault.”
“Unjustifiable!” shouted the man. “Is it unjustifiable for you to intrude in my affairs? Is it unjustifiable to come butting in——”
“Where we appear to be needed?” said Ralph, suddenly pausing in an attitude of keen attention. “Hark, boys!”
From the neighborhood of the ruins there had come a low groan.
“There’s somebody suffering there! Come on!” shouted Ralph.
The others needed no second urging to the rescue. Followed by the imprecations of the man they left behind, they hastened on toward the smoking pile that marked the site of the hut.