“Help! Help! I’m being sucked under!” shouted the terror-stricken man.
Understanding full well the danger that threatened the owner of the Double Cross ranch, Deadshot and Ki Yi ordered the others to halt and hold their ponies where they were while they themselves dismounted and rushed to the rescue.
“We’ll take him one on each side,” exclaimed Ki Yi, as they drew near the wildly-struggling horse.
To the man sinking to such a horrible death and to the others watching, it seemed as though the two cowboys never would reach him.
Yet they were making haste with all speed possible.
Already Bowser’s stirrups had been gripped in the relentless maw of the mudhole, and they realized that it would require all of their strength to draw him from the powerful and mysterious suction. Consequently, it was of the utmost importance that they choose footing that would not give way with them, thereby precipitating them into the mudhole—and sending all three to their death.
But the footing for the rescuers grew worse instead of better.
“We can’t make it, this way!” cried Deadshot.
“Man, dear, you’re sure not going to desert me?” pleaded the fast-disappearing ranchman.
“Not for a minute!” returned his cowboy. “Hey, Hawks, and the rest of you! throw your lariats over Sam’s shoulders.”