Lobu now stood hesitating, and gazing stupidly up at Jim above him.
With a quick twist of the wrist the rope snaked from the cowboy's hand, and the loop dropped neatly over the insane man's head and shoulders. With such an expert at roping and throwing as Broncho, it was but a moment before Lobu lay on the deck, securely bound and helpless.
"My! That was close!" panted Jim, as he slid down to the deck.
"Jim, shake!" said the rover, breathing deeply and with the smallest tremble in his voice. "I won't forget what you did to-day as long as I live."
The boy blushed vividly with pleasure, and stammered out something which was quite unintelligible, whilst Broncho said heartily:
"Good for you, son! It shore were a clean strain play o' yours, an' plumb full o' sand as the Mohave desert."
Then Tari came in for congratulations and thanks, and the way Jack gripped his hand made the Islander beam with pleasure and wince with pain.
"Fine shootin', Tari, as ever I sees," commented Broncho. "Black Davis is plumb childlike with a belayin'-pin compared to you."
The question now was, what was to be done with Lobu, who lay on the deck panting and spent, and apparently sane enough again, though rolling his eyes in wide alarm.
"I believe he thinks we are going to cook and eat him," observed Jack. "The Marquesans always used to eat the captured amongst their enemies."