dle, he had
mounted one of the horses with the child before him, and had continued
his flight, the terrific wind at his back. Unaware that the wind had
changed, he had traversed horseback much of the distance traveled
during the day, and at about two in the morning--that is to say, about
all hour ago--seeing a light, he had ridden straight toward it, to find
shelter from the storm.

The prisoner narrated all this in nervous haste, though he had already
given every particular, time and again. His form as well as his voice
trembled with undisguised terror, and indeed, the red and cruel eyes
fastened contemptuously on him might have caused a much braver man than
Gledware to shudder visibly.

"Well, pard," said the leader of the band, waiting until he had
finished, "you can't never claim that you ain't been given your say,
for I do admire free speech. I want to address you reasonable, and
make this plain and simple, as only a man that has been alleged to be
something of an orator can accomplish. My men and me has had our
conference, and it's decided that both of you has got to be shot, and
immediate. The reasons is none but what a sensible man must admit, and
such I take you to be. I am sorry this has happened, and so is my men,
and we wish you well. It's a hard saying, pard, but whatever your
intentions, a spy you have proved. For what do you find on busting
open our door? Here we sit playing with our booty for stakes, and our
Indian togs lying all about. You couldn't help knowing that we was the
'Indians' that gutted them wagons and put up the fight that left every
man and woman dead on the field except that there last wagon you are
telling us about. You might wish you didn't know the same, but once
knowed, we ain't going to let you loose. As to that wagon you claim to
have stole away from under our very noses--"

A skeptical laugh burst from the listeners.

Gledware eagerly declared that if he had the remotest idea in what
direction it had been left, he would be glad to lead them to the spot.
He could describe it and its contents--

"You see, pard," Red Kimball interposed, "you are everlasting losing
sight of the point. This here is 1880, which I may say is a recent
date. Time was when a fellow could live in Cimarron, and come and go
free and no questions asked--and none answered. But civilization is
a-pressing us hard, and these days is not our fathers' days. We are
pretty independent even yet in ol