that, he was being worsted in his struggle with Pierre. The boy could
not understand it.

"Unhand me, you scoundrel!" he heard Uncle James say, in a feeble voice.

"Not until you have given me the key of the safe," was the robber's
answer. "I have worked hard for that gold to-night, and I am not going
to leave the ranch without it."

Then commenced a furious struggle, and Frank turned away his head, lest
he should see that gleaming knife buried in his uncle's body.

Never before had Frank been so thoroughly overcome with fear. He had
just passed through in ordeal that would have tried the nerves of the
bravest man, and he had scarcely flinched; but to stand there a witness
of his uncle's deadly peril, believing himself powerless to aid him, was
indeed enough to strike terror to his heart.

"O, if I only had my rifle, or one of my pistols!" cried Frank,
"wouldn't I tumble that villain in a hurry? Or if I could find a club,
or could loosen one of these stones"--

Frank suddenly remembered that he held in his hand a weapon quite as
effective at short range, when skilfully used, as either a rifle or
pistol. It was his lasso; and, until that instant, he had forgotten all
about it. Then the blood flew to his cheeks; his power of action
returned, and his arms seemed nerved with the strength of giants. How
thankful was he, then, that his desire to become as expert as his two
friends, Johnny Harris and Dick Thomas, had led him to practice with
that novel weapon.