His keen black eyes flashed for a mere instant over the barrel, and then he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
With a terrible yell the Indian leaped fairly from the back of his horse, and went down to the ground under the hoofs of the flying steeds, while the noble cream stallion, freed from its load, dashed away from the band in frightened style, making wonderful bounds that soon carried it out of sight.
Again the revolver in Pomp’s hand sent forth its death-note, and another riderless steed bounded away after the cream stallion.
An answering volley rang out from the pursuers.
A well-aimed bullet struck against the lock of the revolver, and the heavy weapon was torn from the hands of the surprised darkey.
Away it flew through the air, whirling over and over.
It struck some few hundred yards ahead of the horse, and directly in the course the darkey was traveling.
A cheer went up from the pursuers when they saw their plucky enemy thus suddenly disarmed, for in the hands of such a marksman that very revolver was not a proper thing to ride behind.
But Pomp performed a marvelous feat from the back of the horse that caused them to give another shout, this time in admiration of the plucky darkey.