"And if I don't?" asked Bob.
"'Twon't make a particle o' difference; we'll hev it all the same."
"Well, in that case, suppose you come and take it!"
The lumbermen listened to these words in amazement. Tom Smull stared wonderingly at Bob.
"Wal, if this don't beat all creation!" he cried. "I s'picion as how ye'll find out it don't pay none ter run ag'in Tom Smull." The lumberman, still keeping his weapon leveled, roughly seized the bridle of Bob's pony. "Come now," he added, scowling fiercely, "no more foolin'!"
A few seconds of silence followed this command. Highly indignant and alarmed, the boys gazed intently toward the two principals facing each other in the moonlight. If the lumberjacks secured possession of the map it might give them such an advantage as to threaten the success of their expedition. And it was galling to think of their very first attempt to outwit the trailers meeting with complete defeat.
Breathlessly, they watched Bob Somers. His arm flashed up so swiftly that their eyes could scarcely follow its movement.
Tom Smull's pistol hand received the full force of the blow. Then a quirt came down with stinging force upon the broncho's back, and the bridle was torn so suddenly from the lumberman's grasp as to almost throw him to the ground.
Bob Somers, encouraged by the cries of his excited chums, put spurs to his horse and galloped recklessly down the valley, while Tom Smull, with a yell of rage, started off in hot pursuit.
"Stop—stop!" he bawled.