ogether. A
neckerchief was wound around his wrists and tied tightly. Then Delton
"frisked" him, or searched him, for weapons. Finding none he forced
Bud at the point of his gun to walk ahead some fifteen yards, where the
ponies stood--Bud's and the two others.

"Upstairs, Merkel." Delton motioned toward Bud's pony. "You're goin'
for a little ride with us. Step on it, now."

With some difficulty Bud succeeded in mounting his bronco. The little
pony was trembling, as though it realized something of what was going
on.

"Well, sonny, how does it feel to be talked to and not be able to talk
back? Something like that Mexican cook of yours, hey?"

"The Mexican cook!" Bud turned swiftly in his saddle.

"So he's one of your men too! I thought--" he began hotly.

"You thought nothin'!" the one called Sam interrupted in a rough voice.
"You heard what the boss said. If you want to enjoy good health a
while longer, keep your mouth shut!"

There was nothing for it but to obey. It would do no good to persist
in questioning his captors, and not only would he learn nothing, but
the questions would only serve to antagonize them more.

The three rode along silently. Now and then Bud would shift in the
saddle, for it is no easy thing to ride a long ways on a nervous pony
with one's hands tied behind. Finally they seemed to reach their
destination--the house Bud had seen in the distance. It was a
ramshackle affair, with the roof partly torn away and no vestige of
paint. Evidently it had once been used for a farm house, for about it
were several other shacks, probably to store grain in.

Delton dismounted and held the bridle of Bud's pony.

"Your new home," he said, with a grin. "Come right in. Sorry we can't
fix you up better, but you see all the servants are away."

The lad hesitated a moment.

"Off you come!" Delton seized Bud by the belt and pulled. The boy
tumbled off his pony and hit the ground.

"That wasn't--necessary!" the boy panted, as he lay there with most of
the breath knocked out of him. Luckily he had fallen on his side, and
not on his face, which would have meant a real injury, his hands tied
as they were.

"Maybe not, but I figger it'll do you good. Give you an appetite for
dinner," and Delton laughed harshly. "Where I come from we treat 'em
worse than that."

"Aw, let him alone," Sam growled. "No use hurtin' the kid! That won't
help us any. If we get caught it won't be so good h