It served, however, to stir Phil to renewed activity.Grabbing all the stones he could gather in one sweep of his hands he started on a run toward Red Larry, letting one drive with every jump.They showered around the desperate man like a rain of hail.
All at once Larry uttered a yell of pain and anger.One of Phil's missiles had landed in the pit of the fellow's stomach.Larry doubled up like a jacknife, and, dropping suddenly, rolled rapidly toward the foot of the slope.
Phil, still clinging to his weapons, ran as fast as his slender legs would carry him in pursuit of his man.
"I hit him!I hit him!" he yelled.
In a moment he came up with Larry, but the lad prudently stopped a rod from his adversary to make sure that the fellow was not playing him a trick.One glance sufficed to tell Phil that the man had really been hit.
"I hope he isn't much hurt, but I'm not going to take any chances."Phil jerked off his coat and began ripping it up, regardless of the fact that it was his best.With the strands thus secured, he approached his prisoner cautiously, then suddenly jumped on him.
Larry was not able to give more than momentary resistance.Inside of three minutes Phil had the fellow's hands tied securely behind his back.Gathering the stones about him in case of need, the lad sat down and wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"I guess that about puts an end to your tricks, my fine fellow," announced Phil.
The train had been finally stopped, and a force of men now dashed back along the tracks.They had been in time to view the last half of the battle of the stones, and when Red went down they set up a loud triumphant yell.In a few minutes they had reached the scene and had taken the prisoner in tow.
The train was at the top of the grade waiting, so the show people and their captive were obliged to walk fully a mile to reach it.Mr.Sparling, attracted by the uproar, had rushed from his private car.He now met the party a little way down the tracks.