“I’ll teach you,” the man hissed as he sprang forward and aimed a blow at Bob’s head.
But the boy ducked and the blow was wasted on the air. As if maddened to the point of frenzy he rained a shower of blows on him several of which took effect but, although they hurt, they lacked force enough to do any real damage. Bob was watching for an opening the while he was doing his best to protect himself. Suddenly, as if realizing that he was accomplishing nothing, he stepped back and Bob saw his hand reach for his hip pocket. He knew what that meant and, like a flash of lightning, sprang forward. The man’s guard was down and before he could pull his gun from his pocket, Bob had struck with all the force of his one hundred and seventy pounds behind the blow. Fairly on the point of the chin the blow landed and the man toppled over without a sound and lay still. It was a complete knockout.
“Hope I haven’t killed him,” Bob muttered as he felt in his pocket and found a stout piece of cord. “But he’d have had me in another second.”
A small maple tree was close by and pulling the man up against it he soon had his wrists firmly bound together with the tree between them and his back.
“Reckon that’ll hold him,” he muttered as he stepped around in front of him.
Somewhat to his surprise he found that the man’s eyes were open.
“What’s the idea?” he asked in a feeble voice.
“Where’s my brother?” Bob demanded ignoring the question.
“Didn’t know you had one.”
“Well, where’s the boy you brought here last night or rather this morning?”