The cowboy outlaw, however, was about to have the most surprising of
surprises that could have come to him at that time.

Tad, in his anxiety to catch every word that was uttered, had drawn
his body close up to the edge of the cliff, his head and shoulders
hanging well over.

In front of him, right down to the camp stretched a long, sloping
rock, whose smooth face, glistened in the light of the camp fire. As
the men rose to prepare for the night, Tad began pulling himself
cautiously back, bracing himself with one hand.

Suddenly the hand slipped. How it happened he was unable to tell
afterward, but instantly Tad was over the rock and tobogganing down
its side head first.

A spot rougher than the rest of the rock, caught in his clothes,
righting the boy's body, permitting him to shoot down the rest of
the way, feet first.

The Pony Rider Boy's presence of mind did not desert him for an
instant. It was not a long drop. He felt that he would land safely,
providing he did not turn again and land on his head instead of his
feet. It was a chance very liable to happen, as he knew from his
experience of a second before.

They heard him coming, but did not catch the significance of it.

"What's that!" exclaimed Bluff, springing up in alarm.