You're caught now, easy enough; for that dog never lets go, if he once gets a good hold.

Hang on to him, old fellow!" But Marmion seemed to be utterly unable to manage the Ranchero.

He had placed his fore-feet upon Pierre's breast, and appeared to be holding him by the throat; but the latter, with one blow of his arm, knocked him off, and, regaining his feet, fled through the grove with the speed of the wind--the piece of the lasso, which was still around his neck, streaming straight out behind him.
"Take him, Marmion!" yelled Frank, astonished to see his dog so easily defeated.

"Take him! Hi! hi!" The animal evidently did his best to obey; but there seemed to be something the matter with him.

He ran as if he were dragging a heavy weight behind him, or as if his feet were tied together, and it was all he could do to keep up with the robber; and, when he tried to seize him, Pierre would shake him off without even slackening his pace.
Mr.Winters, in the meantime, had run to his horse--which, during the struggle, had stood perfectly still in the middle of the court--after his pistols; but, before he could get an opportunity to use them, both Pierre and the dog had disappeared among the trees.