lled.

Bill Macy scratched his hook nose and looked reproachfully at his host.
At least Holt thought he was looking at him. One could not be sure, for
Bill's eyes did not exactly track.

"That ain't no kind o' way to talk to a fellow when he comes at you with
a fair proposition, Gid."

"You tell Selfridge I ain't going to leave Kamatlah--not right now. I'm
going to stay here on the job till that Land Office inspector comes--and
then I'm going to have a nice, long, confidential chat with him. See?"

"What's the use of snapping at me like a turtle? Durden says Wild-Goose
looks fine. There's gold up there--heaps of it."

"Let it stay there, then. I ain't going. That's flat." Holt turned to
adjust the damper of his stove.

"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't say that," drawled Bill insolently.

The man at the stove caught the change in tone and turned quickly. He
was too late. Macy had thrown himself forward and the weight of his body
flung Holt against the wall. Before the miner could recover, the other
two men were upon him. They bore him to the floor and in spite of his
struggles tied him hand and foot.

Big Bill rose and looked down derisively at his prisoner. "Better change
your mind and go with us, Holt. We'll spend a quiet month up at the
headquarters of Wild-Goose. Say you'll come along."

"You'll go to prison for this, Bill Macy."

"Guess again, Gid, and mebbe you'll get it right this time." Macy turned
to his companions. "George, you bring up the horses. Dud, see if that
bread is cooked. Might as well take it along with us--save us from
baking to-morrow."

"What are you going to do with me?" demanded Holt.

"I reckon you need a church to fall on you before you can take a hint.
Didn't I mention Wild-Goose Creek three or four times?" jeered his
captor.

"Every step you take will be one toward the penitentiary. Get that into
your cocoanut," the old miner retorted sharply.

"Nothing to that idee, Gid."

"I'll scream when you take me out."

"Go to it. Then we'll gag you."

Holt made no further protest. He was furious, but at present quite
helpless. However it went against the grain, he might as well give in
until rebellion would do some good.

Ten minutes later the party was moving silently along the trail that led
to the hills. The pack-horses went first, in charge of George Holway.
The prisoner walked next, his hands tied behind him. Big Bill followed,
and the man he had called Dud brought up the rea