The lad shook his head in reply. He understood what the foreman meant. Men were coming to their assistance and the boy was to push on for camp alone. The cowpunchers began to laugh as they rode up and observed the boy's tattered condition. "So the Pinto got a dose this time, eh?" jeered Lumpy Bates. "You shut up!" snarled Big-foot Sanders, turning on him menacingly. "He's brought them cows back, and I'll bet a new saddle it's more'n you could have done. Don't you see the kid's near all in? Here you, Pinto, you hike for camp!" he shouted. "I'm staying with the cattle," announced Tad, firmly. "Cattle nothing. It's the camp for yours and mighty quick!" Without waiting for argument Big-foot grasped the reins of Tad's bridle and whirling his own mount about, galloped away, fairly dragging Tad Butler and his tired pony after him. With no reins in his hands the boy was powerless to interfere. All he could do was to sit in his saddle and be towed into camp. "Please don't take me in this way. Let me ride in," he begged as they neared the camp. "All right," laughed Big-foot, slacking up and tossing the reins back over the pony's neck. "It's a terrible thing to be proud, when a fellow's down and out. But I want to say one thing, kid." "Yes?" "There ain't a gamer critter standing on two hoofs than you--bar none. And that goes." Tad laughed happily. "I haven't done anything. I----" "Haven't done anything?" growled Big-foot, riding close and peering down into the boy's scarred and grimy face. "Say, don't pass that out to the bunch. Lumpy'll say you're fishin' for compliments. I don't want to thump him, but, if he passes out any talk as reflects on what you've done for this outfit, I'll thrash him proper." They were now so near to the camp that the Professor and the boys were able to recognize the horsemen. They set up a great shout. "Meet me with a pail of water," yelled Tad. "I'm hot." Pong heard him and almost immediately emerged from the chuck wagon with a tin pail full of water. "Throw it on me, quick," commanded the lad, leaping from his pony. Pong tipped the pail and was about to dash it over the lad when Big-foot suddenly freed a foot from the stirrup. He gave the pail a powerful kick sending it several feet from him, its contents spilling over the ground. "You idiot! You fool heathen!" roared Big-foot. "The Pinto didn't say he wanted boiling hot water thrown on him. He said he was hot. If you wasn't the cook of this outfit, and we'd all starve to death without you, I'd shoot you plumb full of holes, you blooming idiot of a heathen Chinee!" "Allee same," chuckled Pong, showing his gleaming teeth. "What! You climb into that wagon before I forget you're the cook!" fumed Big-foot, jumping his pony threateningly toward the Chinaman. Pong leaped into the protection of his wagon.