me go and then cut out yourself."

Buell breathed as heavily as a porpoise, and his footsteps pounded hard.

"Leslie, I'm seein' this out--understand? When Bud rode down to the mill
an' told me the kid had got away I made up my mind to ketch him an' shet
his mouth--one way or another. An' I'll do it. Take thet from me!"

"Bah!" sneered Dick. "You're sca'red into the middle of next week right
now.... Besides, if you do ketch Ken it won't do you any good-now!"

"What?"

But Dick shut up like a clam, and not another word could be gotten from
him. Buell fumed and stamped.

"Bud, you're the only one in this bunch of loggerheads thet has any
sense. What d'you say?"

"Quiet down an' wait here," replied Bud. "Mebbe old Bent didn't hear
them shots of Herky's. He may come back. Let's wait awhile, an', if he
doesn't come, put Herky on the trail."

"Good! Greaser, go out an' hide the hosses--drive them up the canyon."

The Mexican shuffled out, and all the others settled down to quiet. I
heard some of them light their pipes. Bud leaned against the left of
the door, Buell sat on the other side, and beyond them I saw as much of
Herky as his boots. I knew him by his bow-legs.

The stillness that set in began to be hard on me'. When the men were
moving about and talking I had been so interested that my predicament
did not occupy my mind. But now, with those ruffians waiting silently
below, I was beset with a thousand fears. The very consciousness that I
must be quiet made it almost impossible. Then I became aware that my one
position cramped my arm and side. A million prickling needles were at
my elbow. A band as of steel tightened about my breast. I grew hot and
cold, and trembled. I knew the slightest move would be fatal, so I bent
all my mind to lying quiet as a stone.

Greaser came limping back into the cabin, and found a seat without any
one speaking. It was so still that I heard the silken rustle of paper as
he rolled a cigarette. Moments that seemed long as years passed, with my
muscles clamped as in a vise. If only I had lain down upon my back!
But there I was, half raised on my elbow, in a most awkward and
uncomfortable position. I tried not to mind the tingling in my arm,
but to think of Hiram, of Jim, of my mustang. But presently I could not
think of anything except the certainty that I would soon lose control of
my muscles and fall over.

The tingling changed to a painful vibration, and perspiration stung my
f