“There they are!” cried Tad, as bursting out on the plain they saw vicious flashes of light, accompanied by the crashing of guns.

CHAPTER IX

SHOWING GOOD GENERALSHIP

Rifles had been jerked from saddle boots as the boys swung to the left, sweeping down over the plain.  Tad assumed the leadership of the party, as he usually did in emergencies.

“All hold your fire until I give the word.  Keep your heads.  Don’t get excited!” wanted the lad.

“That is good judgment.  But try to keep out of the fire,” shouted the professor.

Ned Rector laughed.

“We might better have stayed at the camp if that is all we are going to do,” he answered.

Tad saw that several men were riding around in a circle shooting at a fleeing horseman whose rifle spoke often and spitefully.  The lad knew that the solitary horseman was the Ranger lieutenant.

“The cowards—–­to attack one man that way!” gritted the boy.  “Now, fellows,” he called, slacking up slightly, “I want you, when I say go, to yell like mad.  Whoop it up for all you’re worth.  Then when I say fire, every man shake out his rifle, but shoot high.  We don’t want to hit anybody unless we have to.  We’ll make those fellows think the whole troop of Rangers is turned loose on them.  Understand?”

“Good!  Excellent head work, Tad.  I’m proud of you.  But I do hope none of you gets hit.”

“If you are afraid, drop back to the rear, Professor,” suggested Stacy, whereat chuckles were heard from the others.

The bandits had not discovered the advancing horsemen in the darkness, though had they been less interested in seeking to kill Lieutenant Withem they might have observed the little band that was now sweeping down on them.

“Now!  Whoop it up, fellows!” Tad raised his voice to an exultant shout.

Chunky’s piercing voice punctured the atmosphere in a blood-curdling shout, a wild warwhoop.

“Yip!  Yip!  Hiyi!  Hiyi!  Kyaw!  Kyeeaw!  Yip!  Yip!”

Despite the seriousness of the situation and the real desperateness of their position the Pony Rider Boys laughed so that they were unable to yell for a full minute.  Then they let go their voices, to which the professor added his own.  But his voice was almost wholly lost in the blood-curdling shouts of his young charges.

“Ready—–­Chunky, aim at the moon or you’ll be puncturing some of us.  Now fire!”

A volley of shots followed Tad’s command.  Five rifles crashed out, but their leaden missiles went high, followed by another series of wild yells, whoops and scattering shots.

About this time the Border Bandits discovered the oncoming party of horsemen.  All at once they turned their rifles on the Pony Rider Boys.  At the first shot in the direction of the boys Tad turned in his saddle.

“Lie low!” he yelled.  “Keep whooping and keep shooting.  Look out that you don’t hit any one.  Ride straight at them.  They’ll give ground.”