m gripped
him like a vise, pinioning his own right arm to his side, while a big
hand was clapped over his mouth, forcing the lad's head violently
backwards with a jolt which for the moment he thought had dislocated his
neck.

Tad struggled and fought with all his might, but to little purpose. The
boy realized that he was in the hands of a man who was a giant for
strength and who was slowly but surely forcing him toward the steamer's
rail. The Pony Rider Boy felt a bushy beard over his shoulder and
against his neck. Now he was against the rail, facing out over the
water. Butler knew that, despite his struggles, he was going to be
dropped over the side. Then a sudden idea came to him. Tad shot up his
free left hand, fastening his fingers in the long beard of the man
behind him. He heard a smothered exclamation over his shoulder, and for
the instant the hand over his mouth was withdrawn.

"Help!" shouted Tad Butler. Then a blow on the head sent him limply to
the deck.

CHAPTER III

IN DESPERATE STRAITS

Tad's assailant hastily gathered the boy up. The man staggered slightly,
as, after a hurried glance up and down the deck, he stepped toward the
rail with his burden. Just then footsteps were heard.

"Hey! What are you doing there?" bellowed a voice. A man came running
from somewhere in the after part of the ship. Butler's assailant dropped
his burden, dodged into a passageway in the deck-house, closing the door
behind him and disappearing before the newcomer reached the door and
threw it open. Then the rescuer turned to the unconscious Tad Butler.

"Well, here's trouble!" he muttered. Taking up Tad's limp form he
carried it to where the light from the grating shone up. "It's that
freckle-faced kid. Somebody gave him a tough wallop," growled the man.
Tad's rescuer was Sam Dawson, one of the Gold Diggers. "I reckon I'll
fetch him around if his neck isn't broken."

Laying the lad down on the deck where he would have plenty of air, the
Digger worked over the Pony Rider Boy for fully five minutes before Tad
returned to consciousness. Butler was too dazed to realize what had
occurred.

"I'll take you below now, my lad," said Dawson.

"No, no. Not yet," protested Tad. "Wait. I want to think."

"Who was the fellow who hit you?" demanded Dawson.

"I--I don't know," stammered Tad.

"What did he do it for?"

"I--I don't know. I--"

"You aren't very strong on information, are you?" grinned the
prospector.