But that lad had not been idle during this strenuous time. He had felt the lariat tightening about the upper part of his body, and he had let out a frightened yell. But he had done more than yell. He had grasped the rope with both hands, in a quick, upward motion, and had succeeded in slipping it off, over his head, a task he would have been unable to perform had his enemy had daylight in his favor. But, as it was, Dick succeeded in escaping the noose.
"Who is it? Who did that?" yelled Dick, as he managed to get to his feet, and staggered back toward his tarpaulin, evidently with the intention of seeking his gun.
But there came no answer out of the gloom.
Bud and Nort hurried over to Dick, who was rather dazed and ruffled up from the experience he had undergone.
"Hurt?" asked Nort, quickly.
"Not to speak of," answered Dick. "Was that one of the boys?" he asked, turning to Bud.
"One of our cowboys? No, they don't do such things," was the answer.
"It must have been——"
He was interrupted by the rapid thuds of hoofs and, an instant later, there dashed into the circle of light Dirk and Chot, two of the men who had been left when the others rode away to get on the trail of the rustlers.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Dirk, reining in his pony so suddenly that the animal slid with his forefeet almost in the embers of the fire.
"Somebody tried to rope Dick," answered Bud. "I didn't see it, but I had a glimpse of him being dragged off on the end of a lariat."