Young Butler was upon him like a whirlwind.

Whack!

Tad’s fist caught the mountaineer squarely on the point of the jaw as the man raised his head half defiantly, one hand groping awkwardly for his pistol.

The fellow went down in a heap.

“Whoop!” howled Ned Rector.  “That’s the blow that put the finishing touches to father.  Cut me loose!  Cut me loose!  Quick, Tad!  He’ll be up in a minute!”

Butler had no need to be told this.  He knew the first thing to be done was to secure the prisoner.  Ned could wait.  The danger lay with the man stretched out there on the ground.  Tad worked rapidly.  His rope was jerked free from his belt.  Three swift turns were made about the body of the prostrate man, binding the fellow’s arms firmly to his sides.

Next Tad jerked the mountaineer’s revolver from its holster and cast it into the bushes.  Then he tied the man’s ankles together, after which he straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face and forehead.

“Whew!  Warm, isn’t it, Ned?”

“Rather,” drawled Rector.  “Warmer for some folks than others.  It came near being pretty warm for you.  Are you going to cut me loose, or am I to stay tied to this tree for the rest of the night?”

“I guess we will let you up now.  We shall have to wait until our friend there comes to his senses before going farther.  Tell me how you got into this mess.”

“The same way Chunky gets into trouble.  I blundered into it.”  Ned then went on to relate briefly how he had been jumped on by the mountaineer and made prisoner.

“What was he trying to get you to tell him?”

“He accused me of being a Texas Ranger, a member of some fellow’s band, a fellow named McKay.”

“The band or the man?” questioned Tad.

“That was the man’s name.  Billy McKay.  He’s a captain of Rangers, or something of the sort, it doesn’t matter much what.”

“I rather think it does,” answered Butler dryly.

“How so?”

“Why, don’t you see, it means that if the Texas Rangers are after this fellow he must be wanted for something very serious.  Who is he?”

“You may search me.  Stacy may be right after all.  There are plenty of Germans in Mexico, so why not some of them up here to stir up trouble?  He looks like pictures I have seen of some of those Hun assassins,” declared Ned Rector.

“I think I will search him.  He may have some more weapons about his person.”

Tad found a bowie knife in the mountaineer’s boot, but that was the only weapon left on his person.  Tad threw the knife away.  About this time the prisoner began to show signs of returning consciousness.

“You must have hit him an awful wallop,” wondered Ned, standing over the man and eyeing him narrowly.

“I did.  I hit him first with a stone, then with my fist.  I skinned my knuckles, too.”