turned and walked his horse directly toward the spot where he was concealed.
"A boomer behind the brush!" shouted the cavalryman. "Come, boys, and take him!"
Immediately there was a rush, and Pawnee Brown was surrounded. He had his pistol out and in return came the weapons of the trio.
"Well, gentlemen, you seem to want to make me your prisoner," said the scout, coolly.
"Thet's wot," cried Ross. "Eh, Tucker?"
To make Pawnee Brown a prisoner would be of no personal benefit to him.
"You seem to bear me a grudge," said the boomer, eyeing him sharply.
Tucker could not stand that gaze and his eyes dropped.
"Yes, you're a prisoner," said Ross. "Let's bind him up, Skimmy."
"Take that!"
Pawnee Brown leaped forward and hurled both Ross and Skimmy to the ground. Ere they could rise he had turned upon Tucker. The tall calvaryman had his pistol cocked, and now he blazed away almost in Pawnee Brown's face, and then both went down, with the scout on top.
The flash of the pistol had scorched the boomer's skin, but the bullet sung over his head, missing him
