to do?"

"Do whatever Captain Wilmot orders without objectin', an' speak nothing
but the truth. You don't need to speak the _whole_ truth, hows'ever,"
added the scout thoughtfully, as he led out his coal-black steed. "Your
friend Leather has got a Christian name of course. Don't mention it. I
don't want to hear it. Say nothin' about it to anybody. The time may
come when it may be useful to drop the name of Leather and call your
friend Mister whatever the tother name may be. Now mind what I've said
to ye."

As he spoke the last words the scout touched the neck of his beautiful
mare, and in another minute was seen racing at full speed over the
rolling plain.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

TELLS OF A CRUEL DEED, AND SHOWS HOW MYSTERIOUSLY HUNKY BEN BEHAVED.

When Jake escaped from the ranch of Roaring Bull he tried the mettle of
Captain Wilmot's charger to the uttermost, for well he knew that the
pursuit would be instant and vigorous; that his late comrade Charlie
Brooke could guide the troops to the cavern in Traitor's Trap, and that
if his companions, who would doubtless ride straight back, were to
escape, they must be warned in time. He also knew that the captain's
charger was a splendid one. In order to accomplish his purpose,
therefore, he would ride it to death.

The distance between the ranch and the outlaws' cave was not so great
but that any mustang in the plains could have traversed it in a day, but
the cruel man had made up his mind that the captain's charger should do
it in a few hours. It is not so much distance as pace that kills. Had
any consideration whatever been extended to the noble creature by the
ignoble brute who rode it, the good horse would have galloped to the
head of the Trap almost without turning a hair. At first he strode out
over the rolling prairie with the untiring vigour of a well-made frame
and a splendid constitution, leaping the little cracks and inequalities
of the ground in the exuberance of his strength; though there was no
need to bound, and coursing over the knolls as easily as he cantered
down the hollows, while his flashing eye betokened at once a courageous
and a gentle spirit. But when the lower slopes of the hills were
reached, and steepish gradients were met with here and there, the horse
began to put back first one ear and then the other, and sometimes both,
as if in expectation of the familiar "well done," or pat on the neck, or
check of the rein with which t