Clary told Henry to go to the ponies and stay there with Vic, while he
and Frank crept upon the thieves. Screening themselves behind tufts
and swells, and lastly behind the saddles, they worked across the
level, the sound of their moving being covered by the booming and
rushing of the mighty river. When within twenty yards of the fire and
five from the saddles, Private Tom Clary sprang to his feet, aimed his
double-barrelled shot-gun at the thieves, and shouted:
"Throw up your arrums!"
At the same instant Frank made a flying leap for the saddles, and
seized the rifles and revolvers. Henry ran forward and assisted his
brother in keeping Dick and Juan under the muzzles of their own
rifles, while Clary securely bound them. This accomplished, the boys
went back for a moment to renew their acquaintance with their horses.
Yes, the chase was over, and their favorites were again in their
possession; and it cannot appear strange that the young soldiers went
into boyish ecstasies of delight at their good-fortune, embracing,
patting, and talking to Sancho and Chiquita as if they understood all
that was said to them.
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