"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.
With a bound like an antelope he started toward the struggling men, swinging his lasso around his head as he ran.