the lad drove a blow straight at Pong's
head, but a swirl of the current destroyed the boy's aim and his fist
barely grazed the cheek of the Chinaman.

Quick as a flash, Tad Butler launched another blow. This time the
Chinaman's head was jolted backwards, Tad's fist having landed squarely
on the point of the fellow's jaw.

But Pong was still struggling, and the lad completed his work by
delivering another blow in the same place.

"I hope I haven't hurt him," gasped the boy.

Tad threw himself over on his back, breathing heavily and well-nigh
exhausted. He kept a firm grip on the cook, however, supporting and
keeping the latter's head above water by resting the Chinaman's neck on
his arm as they floated with the current.

In the meantime, Stallings was dashing along the bank roaring out his
orders to the cowboys, calling them ashore and driving them in further
down. Yet, each time it seemed as though the floating pair drifted
farther and farther away.

But Tad Butler was still cool. Now that he was getting his strength
back, he began slowly to kick himself in toward shore, aiding in the
process by long windmill strokes of his free arm.

He did not make the mistake of heading directly for the shore, but
sought to make it by a long tack, moving half with the current and half
against it. The lad had made up his mind that the cowboys would never
reach them and that what was to be done must be done by himself.

"Can you make it?" called Stallings.

"Yes. But have some one--on the other side--toss me a rope--as soon as
possible. I don't know--whether Pong--is done for--or not," answered the
boy in short breaths.

Stallings plunged his pony into the current and swam for the other side.
Reaching there, he galloped at full speed toward the point for which Tad
seemed to be aiming.

The foreman rode into the water until it was up to his saddle and where
the pony was obliged to hold its head high to avoid drowning.

There the foreman waited until the lad had gotten within roping
distance.

"Turn in a little," directed Stallings. "You'll hit that eddy and land
out in the middle, if you don't."

A moment more and the foreman's lariat slipped away from the circle it
had formed above his head.

Tad held an arm aloft, and the loop dropped neatly over it. Stallings
pulled it and Tad grasped the rope after the loop had tightened about
his arm.

"Haul away," he directed.

The foreman turned his pony about and slowly t