resting across the
body of the prisoner, as if the lieutenant were looking for trouble.
The trouble came sooner than they expected. The Ranger had been gone
less than twenty minutes when a volley of rifle shots crashed out.

"He's attacked!" cried Tad.

"Quick! Put out the fire!" shouted the professor.

"Don't wait for the fire. We must go to his assistance!" answered
Tad, snatching up his rifle and making a bolt for his pony. "Come
on, boys, we've got something to do this time."

"Stop!" commanded the professor.

"What, sit here while a band of bandits are perhaps murdering Lieutenant
Withem? I can't do that. You stay here, Professor. We will take care
of ourselves. Don't worry about us. Chunky, you'd better stay here
with the professor. You haven't got sand enough to---"

"What, me stay here?" shouted the fat boy, starting for his own mount.
"I guess you don't know what kind of a man I am. Come on, fellows.
Whoop!"

Stacy leaped into his saddle. Ned Rector and Walter Perkins already
had taken to their saddles. The professor saw that it was useless to
try to stop the boys. He groaned aloud. But Professor Zepplin was
very active for his years. Ere the enthusiastic Pony Riders had
started to gallop away the professor had made a flying leap into his
saddle and a few seconds later was pounding down the canyon, along
the West Fork, in the wake of the racing Pony Rider Boys.

"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'r