“Jack!” exclaimed the Warm Spring scout, gazing down into the captive’s face.
“Yes, Cohoon; I did not dream of catching this devil to-night. Where’s Donald?”
“Down by Black Creek.”
“Any of the boys near?”
“All away.”
“Then we must take care of the elephant ourselves. Here, tie these legs while I press them together. Draw the rope between them, that’s it. Heavens!”
Well might he utter this ejaculation, for Captain Jack, in one second, had drawn his legs to his chin, and as suddenly had straightened them out again.
Cohoon, struck in the breast by the moccasined feet, went flying over the rocks, and the youth threw himself upon the Modoc again before he could gain his feet.
“I’ll finish you now, devil!” he cried, and the knife shot aloft. “Curse you, Captain Jack—”
The Modoc rose to his feet as though there was no impediment to such action, and the next minute the youth found himself held at arm’s length by the chief of the scarlet rebels.