and
crossing his arms on his breast, "my name is Drake. As to Mahoghany,
I've no objection to it though it ain't complimentary. If, as you say,
Mister Stalker, I'm to swing for this, of course I must swing. Yet it
do seem raither hard that a man should swing for savin' his friend's
life an' his enemy's at the same time."

"How--what do you mean?"

"I mean that Mister Brixton is my friend," answered the trapper, "and
I've saved his life just now, for which I thank the Lord. At the same
time, Stalker is my enemy--leastwise I fear he's no friend--an' didn't I
save _his_ life too when I put a ball in his arm, that I could have as
easily put into his head or his heart?"

"Well," responded Stalker, with a fiendish grin, that the increasing
pain of his wound did not improve, "at all events you have not saved
your own life, Drake. As I said, you shall swing for it. But I'll give
you one chance. If you choose to help me I will spare your life. Can
you tell me where Paul Bevan and his daughter are?"

"They are with Unaco and his tribe."

"I could have guessed as much as that. I ask you _where_ they are!"

"On the other side of yonder mountain range, where the chief's village
lies."

Somewhat surprised at the trapper's readiness to give the information
required, and rendered a little suspicious, Stalker asked if he was
ready and willing to guide him to the Indian village.

"Surely. If that's the price I'm to pay for my life, it can be easily
paid," replied the trapper.

"Ay, but you shall march with your arms bound until we are there, and
the fight wi' the redskins is over," said the robber-chief, "and if I
find treachery in your acts or looks I'll blow your brains out on the
spot. My left hand, you shall find, can work as well as the right wi'
the revolver."

"A beggar, they say, must not be a chooser," returned the trapper. "I
accept your terms."

"Good. Here, Goff," said Stalker, turning to his lieutenant, "bind his
hands behind him after he's had some supper, and then come an' fix up
this arm o' mine. I think the bone has escaped."

"Hadn't we better start off at once," suggested Drake, "an' catch the
redskins when they're asleep?"

"Is it far off?" asked Stalker.

"A goodish bit. But the night is young. We might git pretty near by
midnight, and then encamp so as to git an hour's sleep before makin' the
attack. You see, redskins sleep soundest just before daybreak."

While he was speaking t