The next instant Jack was shot like a projectile through space, while the horse, with an almost human groan of pain, sank to the ground. At the same time Ramon, halted on the little hill, caught the sound of the crash.
A cruel smile curled his thin lips, exposing his long yellow teeth—almost like those of some beast of prey. With a whispered word to his black horse the Mexican outlaw plunged into the brush in the direction of the sound which had just reached his ears.
CHAPTER IV.
A BATTLE ROYAL.
Jack struggled to his feet and surveyed the scene of his disaster with dismay. A brief examination of his fallen horse told him that it would be impossible to continue his flight on the animal. Its knees were cut and bruised, and it lay with an expression of dumb suffering in its eyes that touched the sorely-tried lad’s heart. If he had not dropped his little rifle in the excitement of his escape he would have despatched the creature,—risking the chance of detection from the sound of the report.
“Well, here’s where I take to Shank’s mare,” murmured Jack, setting off once more,—when something whistled through the air and settled about his neck in a stifling coil.
It was a rawhide lasso, hurled with deadly accuracy by Ramon, who had entered the glade just as Jack arose from his examination of the fallen horse.
Before the boy had time to realize what had occurred, he was yanked from his feet and thrown violently to the ground for the second time.