“You’ll be a sage rooster, with your head off, first thing you know,” snapped Tad in disgust.  “Can’t you be serious for a minute?  Don’t you see we are in a fix?”

“Uh-huh!”

“There, that fellow is trying to head us off.”

One of the Indians had shot away from his companion, running obliquely toward the point to which Tad was headed.

The red man had gotten quite a start before the boys caught the significance of his manoeuvre.

Tad dug in the spurs.

At that instant the fat boy’s hands had been removed from Tad, to whose body they had been clinging.

The pony leaped forward, and Stacy slid over its rump, hitting the ground with a jolt that jarred him.

“Wow!” howled Stacy.

Tad, instantly divining what had happened, pulled up sharply; wheeled and raced back to where his companion was still complaining loudly and rubbing his body.

“Get up!” roared Tad, leaning over and grasping Stacy by the hair of his head.

The fat boy was jerked sharply to his feet.

“Quick!  Quick, climb up here!”

With the help of his companion, the lad scrambled up behind Tad again, muttering and rubbing himself.

By this time the leading horseman had wholly outdistanced them, and his pony was now loping along easily, while the second Indian appeared to be riding directly toward them, at right angles to the direction in which they were traveling.

All at once the two Indians began riding about the boys in a circle, uttering short little “yips,” intended to terrify the lads, but not loud enough to be heard any great distance away.

“Hang on!  We’re going to ride for keeps now!” warned Tad.

The fat boy threw both arms about his companion’s waist as the pony let out into a swift run.  At first Tad thought he had gotten safely out of the circle, only to discover that they had headed him again.

The circle was narrowing, and the Indians were gradually drawing in on them.

Stacy’s eyes were growing larger every minute, perhaps more from astonishment than from fear.  Then, too, he could not but admire the riding of their pursuers.  Even the blankets of the Indians appeared not to be disturbed in the least by their rapid riding, the horsemen sitting a little sideways on the ponies’ backs, the reins bunched loosely in their left bands.

“They’ve got us, Tad.”

“They shan’t get us!” retorted Tad stubbornly.  “If they don’t use their guns—­ and I don’t believe they will—­ we’ll beat them yet.”

If Stacy was doubtful he did not say so.

“If they get close to us, you be ready to let go of me when I give the word,” cautioned Tad.

“What for?  What you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.  That depends upon circumstances.  I’m not going to let them have it all their own way while I’ve got a pony under me.  We may get help any minute, too, so the longer we can put off a clash the better it will be for us.”