“The rascals are all out in front of the house, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Master Tad.  There’s no reason why they should be behind the house.  They know we can’t get out that way; because there is no opening on that side.”

Tad nodded.

“Then I can do it.”

“Tad, what foolish idea have you in mind now?  I cannot consent to your taking any more chances

“Professor, we are taking long enough chances as it is.  Unless we are relieved soon, we shall be starved out and perhaps worse.”

“What’s your plan?” interrupted Kris Kringle.

“See that hole in the roof up there?” Tad pointed.

They had not seen it before, but they did now.  A light suddenly dawned upon Kris Kringle.

“Boy, you are the only level-headed one in the outfit.  You would have made a corking Indian fighter.”

“I’m the Indian fighter,” chimed in Stacy.

“You can boost me up to the hole and I’ll go over the rear of the house, get to the camp and from there ride to Hondo.”

Tad’s three companions started a cheer, which the guide sternly put down.

“I can’t consent to any such plan,” decided the Professor sternly.

The rest reasoned with him until, finally, he did consent, though he knew the lad would be taking desperate chances.  Tad understood that as well as the rest of them, but he was burning to be off.

Kris Kringle gave him careful directions as to how to get to the place.

“Take your rifle with you, if you can get it.  After you get half a mile or a mile away shoot once.  That will tell us you are all right.”

“You can help me in getting away from here, if you will do some shooting to cover my escape,” suggested Tad.

“That’s a good idea,” agreed the guide.  “You wait on the roof until we begin to rake the sage with our revolvers.  Then drop.  Take a wide circuit, so that you won’t stumble over the enemy.”

Tad gave his belt a hitch, stuffed his sombrero under it and announced himself as ready.

The guide stepped under the hole.  Tad quickly climbed to his shoulder and stood up like a circus performer.  He could easily reach the roof with his hands.  A second more and his feet were lifted from the shoulders of the guide.  They saw the figure in the opening; then it disappeared.

A slight scraping noise was the only sound they heard.

Tad flattened himself out and wriggled along toward the rear of the roof.  Peering over the edge he made sure that there was no one about.  He then lay quietly waiting for the shooting to begin.

“Let ’em have it,” directed Kris Kringle.

A sudden fusillade was emptied into the sage brush.

Tad swung himself over the edge of the roof, hung on for a few seconds, then dropped lightly to the ground.

  Chapter XXlV

CONCLUSION