his way to the window and looked out. He saw Noxton and Roebuck sitting on a fallen tree talking earnestly. Close to the door of the house stood the Baxters, and Arnold Baxter was laying down the law to his son, although what it was all about Tom could not determine.
"I can't go by the window," he mused. "And if I try the door —— "
He stopped short, for just then Dan Baxter started to come into the building. But his father stopped him.
"Let the boy alone," cried the elder Baxter. "He'll come around all right, never fear."
"Oh, you're too soft with him," returned the son. "I'd give him a cowhiding." Nevertheless, he walked away, and then all became as silent as before.
Tom realized that whatever was to be done must be done quickly, and walking back he surveyed the broad chimney. It was wide open to the sky, and at one corner of the opening he saw the waving green branch of a tree.
"If I could only get up into the tree," he thought, and no sooner thought than tried. The chimney was dirty, and he was soon covered with soot from head to foot. But being rough the chimney afforded easy footings, and he reached the top without great effort. The tree branch was scarcely two feet from the top.
With great caution the boy peered from the chimney. Noxton and Roebuck were still talking earnestly and both had their backs partly turned in his direction. The Baxters were out of sight.
As quickly as it could be accomplished, Tom stood upon the top of the chimney, caught the tree limb and pulled himself up. The branch swayed violently with his weight, but did not break, and soon he was close to the trunk and out of sight.
"So far so good!" he murmured. "But what shall I do next?"
This question was soon decided. There was another tree close at band, but further from the house than the first, and into this he leaped, and made his way across it to where a drooping branch fell directly over a heavy clump of bushes. Down this branch went Tom and dropped into the bushes as silently as a cat.
It must be confessed that the boy's heart was now thumping like a steam engine. What if he was discovered? He was afraid that his enemies would kill him on the spot.
He looked around and saw the horses tethered among the bushes a hundred feet further on. If only he could gain the animals he felt that escape would be almost secured.
He crawled along the ground like a snake. Once he had to go around a big rock and actually tear his way among the thorns, which scratched him in a dozen places. But behind the rock the shelter was greater, and unable to stand the suspense any longer he set off on a run for his horse.
The animal saw him coming and set up a low whinny of recognition. Then all of the horses swayed around in a bunch, for they were tethered close together.
This gave Tom another idea, and he not only untied his own horse but likewise all of the others. He kept hold of the other lariats as he mounted his steed.
"Get up!" he said sharply but in a low tone, and touched on the flank the horse set off on a gallop, followed by the other animals.
"Hullo, something is wrong with the hosses!" he beard Bill Noxton cry. Then came a rush through the bushes. At the sound Tom bent as low in the saddle as possible and urged his horse to do his best.
"They are stampeding!" came from Arnold Baxter. "Whoa there! whoa! How did they manage to get loose?"
"The prisoner!" shouted Roebuck. "He is on the leading horse! He has escaped us!"
"Impossible!" gasped the elder Baxter. "Why, I have been watching the house —— "
"No matter, it's Tom Rover!" interrupt Dan Baxter. "See, there he goes — and he taking all of our horses with him!"
At this Arnold Baxter drew his pistol and the others also brought forth their firearms. But Tom's steed was not a large one, and while he crouched low in the saddle the horses behind kept his enemies from getting more than an occasional glimpse of him.
On and on went the boy, the horses' hoofs clattering loudly over the rocky trail. The men shouted loudly for him to halt, and several pistol shots rang out, but no damage was done. Soon the enemy was left in the distance.
As soon as he felt that he was safe for the time being, Tom brought his horse down to a walk, in order that he might consider the situation.
Where were the others? That was the all important question. He had escaped from the men who wished him harm, but he was now no better off than when he had fallen in with them.
"But they are a good deal worse off," he thought grimly. "I don't believe they'll want to travel around very far on foot."
It was now sunset, and the youth felt that night would soon be upon him. He did not know which way to turn, although of one thing he was certain — that he wished to keep as far away as possible from those who had held him a prisoner.
Presently he gained the entrance to a small wood, and as it was now too dark to go on he determined to rest for the night. He tied up all of the horses and tried to make himself comfortable at the foot of a large tree. For a long time he could not sleep, but at last he dozed off. His sleep was full of horrible dreams, and his awakening was a rude one.
CHAPTER XXVIII
BILL NOXTON COMES TO GRIEF
"We've found him, boys! Here's the hoss thief, with five o' the hosses with him!"
"Git up thar, young feller, an' give an account o'yerself!"
Tom did not hear these words, but he felt a sharp kick in the ribs and gave a gasp of pain and surprise.
"Let up, Sam," he murmured. "Can't you keep your feet out of my —— " He broke off short and stared around him. "Wha — what does this mean?" he stammered.
Three men stood around him-rough-bearded men, each heavily armed.
"It means thet we have collared ye!" answered one of the men sharply. "Git up!" And he kicked Tom again.
"See here, keep your toe to yourself!" cried Tom hotly. "If you are Arnold Baxter's tools you can treat me half decently, anyway," and he leaped up and faced the crowd.
"Who is Arnold Baxter?" questioned the leader of the men quickly.
"I guess you know well enough."
"Oh, all right if you don't want to talk. But let me say, young feller, thet you have got yerself in a fine mess. Don't yer know ez how they hang hoss thieves in these parts?"
"A horse thief! What do you mean? I am no horse thief, if that's what you are driving at."
Tom's straightforward manner appeared to impress all three men. But the leader shrugged his shoulders.
"Ef ye aint no hoss thief, how is it ye hev got all these critters with ye?" he questioned triumphantly.
"I can explain that easily enough. That horse is my own, purchased in Gunnison from Ralph Verbeck the dealer there. Those horses belong to a set of rascals who captured me and made me their prisoner. I got away from them, and to prevent them from following me I took their horses with me."
"Hurmph! Thet's a slick story!"
"It's the plain truth. Do I look like a horse thief?"
"Not persackly, youngster. But two o' them hosses I know well, an' they war stolen. My pards hyer kin prove it."
"Well, I know nothing about that. I have told you the plain truth. You don't claim the horse I said was mine, do you?"
"No. But wot's this tale ye tell of bein' captured?"
Anxious to set himself straight with these men, who appeared to be of upright character, Tom told the larger part of his story, to which the crowd listened patiently. Then they asked him a number of