Nat didn't say a word. In fact, there was not anything to be said. Dayton, as well as Manuello and Al. Jeffries, was armed, and all had their weapons ready for instant action. It would have been worse than madness to attempt any resistance right then.
With Dayton ahead of him and Manuello and Jeffries behind, Nat stepped out of the cell and into the dimly lit passage. Never had daylight looked sweeter or more desirable to him than it did now, showing in a bright, oblong patch at the end of the passage.
But Nat, much as he longed to make a dash for it then and there, saw no opportunity to do so and in silence the little procession passed along the passageway and entered the colonel's room. Colonel Morello looked up as they entered, but did not seem much surprised. Doubtless he had had a chat with Dayton on the latter's return from hunting and was aware that Nat would be ushered before him.
"Here he is, colonel," began Dayton advancing to the table, while Manuello, ever on the outlook for a cigarette, also stepped a pace to the front, to help himself from a package of tobacco and some rice papers that lay upon the table. This left only Al. Jeffries standing in the door-way.
Swift as the snap of an instantaneous camera shutter Nat's mind was made up. Crouching low, as he was used to do in football tactics, he made a rush at Al. Jeffries, striking him between the legs like a miniature thunderbolt. As he made his dash he uttered an ear-splitting screech:—
"Yee-ow!"
He shrewdly calculated that the sudden cry would further demoralize the astonished outlaws. Jeffries was literally carried off his feet by the unexpected rush. He was forcibly lifted as Nat dashed beneath him and then he fell in a heap, his head striking a rock as he did so, knocking him senseless.
Like an arrow from a bow Nat sped straight for the end of the passage through which he had spied, a minute before, two horses standing still saddled and bridled. They were the steeds upon which Dayton and Jeffries had just ridden in. Such had been Dayton's haste to taunt Nat, however, that he and his companion deferred putting up their ponies till later. Nat, on his journey down the passage, had spied the animals and his alert mind had instantly worked out a plan of escape; as desperate a one, as we shall see, as could well be imagined.
As Al. toppled over in a heap, another outlaw, who was just entering the passage, opposed himself to Nat. He shared the black-mustached one's fate, only he came down a little harder. Neither he nor Al. moved for some time in fact. In the meantime, Morello, Dayton and Manuello, dashing pellmell after the fleeing lad, stumbled unawares over the prostrate Al., and all came down in a swearing, fighting heap.
This gave Nat the few seconds he needed. In two flying leaps he was down the steps and had flung himself into the saddle of one of the horses, before the stableman knew what was happening. When the latter finally woke up and heard the bandits' yells and shouts coming from the passage-way, it was too late. With a rattle of hoofs, and in a cloud of dust, Nat was off. Off along the trail to freedom!