With great exertions he worked away at his bonds.
Suddenly he got one wrist free. This was a life and he felt encouraged.
With one wrist freed, he went at once to work upon the lariat which bound his feet.
It was but a moment’s work to reach for a knife in a locker near and sever the bonds.
Thus freed, he sprang upon his feet. The night was dark as pitch, but this did not matter to Pomp.
“Golly, I’ll bet dey don’ cotch dis chile dat way ag’in,” he declared, sententiously.
Then he opened the throttle and sent the Steam Man flying out upon the plain.
CHAPTER X.
FUTILE ATTEMPTS AT ESCAPE.
In spite of the darkness Pomp kept on at a rapid pace.
He felt that the greater distance he put between him and the spot, the less chance there would be of falling in to the greasers’ hands again.