And now Nat was in the very shadow of the great platform.
At that instant he heard a sudden creaking overhead, and looked up just in time to realize that the ponderous mass was sagging. In one flash of insight he realized the meaning of this. The great mass had been released and was about to descend.
Crack!
"Ye-oo-ow!"
The heavy quirt, which Nat had found fastened to the saddle horn, was laid over the startled pony's flanks. It gave an enraged squeal and flung itself forward like a jack-rabbit.
At the same instant came a shout from behind.
"Stop, Dayton. Stop!—The man-trap!"
Nat, as the pony leaped forward, instinctively bent low in the saddle. As they flashed forward a mighty roar sounded in his ears. Behind him, with a sound like the sudden release of an avalanche, the man-trap had fallen. It had been sprung by the colonel's own hand.
So close to Nat did the immense weight crash down that it grazed his pony's flanks, but—Nat was safe.