hispered word in his ear.

Alex knew the foreigner had gone to learn whether the dynamite had been
touched. In suspense he awaited the result. Would the Italian be
deceived? Would he notice the new footprints about the bush?

Big Tony returned. "All-aright," he announced. Alex breathed a sigh of
relief, and continued forward with his captors.

They proceeded some distance in silence, and presently Alex had
sufficiently plucked up courage to again ask what they proposed doing
with him.

"I'm going to take you where you will be out of mischief, that's all,"
replied the unknown cowman. As he spoke he halted, looked about, and
resigning Alex to the guardianship of the Italian, disappeared in the
shadow of an over-hang of the ravine. A moment later there was a clatter
of hoofs, and he reappeared leading a horse.

"Make heem rida too?" questioned Big Tony.

"Hardly," responded the cowman, at the same time freeing and swinging a
lariat from the saddle-horn. "He's going to trot along behind me like the
blame little coyote he is.

"Hold out your hands, kid!" he ordered. Seeing resistance was useless,
Alex reluctantly complied. Running the noose of the lassoo about the
boy's wrists, the cowman tightened it, and secured it with several knots.
Swinging into the saddle, he fixed the other end to the saddle-horn.

"You may go now, Tony," he said to the foreigner as he caught up the
reins and headed the pony toward a path to the surface which Alex had not
noticed.

"Gooda night, Meester Munson. And gooda-by, smart boy," said the Italian.
"Lucky for you I havanta my way. 'Scrugk!' That's what you get," he
declared, drawing his hand across his throat.

"Munson, eh?" murmured Alex as the lassoo tightened, and he stumbled up
the path behind the pony. "That's another good thing learned."

Arrived at the surface, his captor halted to look about, then set off
across the plains due south, at a walk, Alex trailing after at the end of
the rope.

The situation was not without its humorous side, it occurred to Alex
after his first apprehension had worn off. When a few minutes later the
pony broke into a slow canter, and he was forced into an awkward
dog-trot, a chuckle broke from him.

The man ahead turned in surprise. "Well, you're sure a game one," he
observed. "Imagine it's funny, eh?"

"I was thinking how I would look to some of my friends, if they could see
me here," explained Alex good-naturedly. "Trotting along like a litt