CHAPTER VI.

The mysteries solved.

Pierre, finding himself uninjured by Mr. Winters’s shot, suddenly became very courageous, and stopped to say a parting word to that gentleman.

“Try it again,” said he, with a taunting laugh.  “You are a poor shot for an old frontiersman!  I will bid you good-by, now,” he added, shaking his knife at Uncle James, “but you have not seen the last of me.  You will have reason to remember”—­

The Ranchero did not say what Mr. Winters would have reason to remember, for he happened to look toward the opposite side of the court, and saw something that brought from him an ejaculation of alarm, and caused him to turn and take to his heels.  An instant afterward, a dark object bounded through the court, and, before the robber had taken half a dozen steps, Marmion sprang upon his back, and threw him to the ground.

“Hurrah!” shouted Frank.  “You are not gone yet, it seems.  You’re caught now, easy enough; for that dog never lets go, if he once gets a good hold.  Hang on to him, old fellow!”

But Marmion seemed to be utterly unable to manage the Ranchero.  He had placed his fore-feet upon Pierre’s breast, and appeared to be holding him by the throat; but the latter, with one blow of his arm, knocked him off, and, regaining his feet, fled through the grove with the speed of the wind—­the piece of the lasso, which was still around his neck, streaming straight out behind him.

“Take him, Marmion!” yelled Frank, astonished to see his dog so easily defeated.  “Take him!  Hi! hi!”

The animal evidently did his best to obey; but there seemed to be something the matter with him.  He ran as if he were dragging a heavy weight behind him, or as if his feet were tied together, and it was all he could do to keep up with the robber; and, when he tried to seize him, Pierre would shake him off without even slackening his pace.

Mr. Winters, in the meantime, had run to his horse—­which, during the struggle, had stood perfectly still in the middle of the court—­after his pistols; but, before he could get an opportunity to use them, both Pierre and the dog had disappeared among the trees.  A moment afterward, a horse was heard going at full speed through the grove, indicating that the robber was leaving the ranch as fast as possible.

All this while, Frank has been almost overwhelmed with astonishment.  The ease with which the desperado had vanquished his uncle and the strange behavior of the hitherto infallible Marmion, were things beyond his comprehension.  He stood gazing, in stupid wonder, toward the trees among which Pierre had disappeared, while the sound of the horse’s hoofs grew fainter and fainter, and finally died away altogether.  Then he seemed to wake up, and to realize the fact that the Ranchero had made good his escape, in spite of all their efforts to capture him.