vides."

"We'd like a little conversation with you, and the conversation must
take place in private."

"In that case, Mr. Dean, you could hardly find a better spot than this."

"We're a kindly set of chaps, and couldn't think of keeping a hungry man
out here."

"But I'm not very hungry. I took a pocketful of sandwiches with me from
the tavern."

"Nevertheless, you are coming with us, either peaceably, or by force,
whichever you choose."

"Oh, quite willingly, of course. I should be ungrateful if I gave you
any unnecessary trouble, while accepting your hospitality. I may add
that I am unarmed, so if you keep your guns in readiness you need fear
no reprisal on my part."

"That's all right," responded Jim. "We're not easily scared, but are
prepared to protect ourselves should you try any funny business."

"Is Peter going to take my horse to the farm?"

"Sure; your horse will be put in its old quarters, and will be well
taken care of."

"Then I should be glad if Peter would oblige me by telling Miss
Armstrong that I have arrived safely, and will give her an account of my
journey when next I have the pleasure of meeting her."

[Illustration: "'I may add that I am unarmed, so if you keep your guns
in readiness you need fear no reprisal on my part.'"]

"I'm afraid Peter can't carry any messages; indeed, it's not at all
necessary. I've told Miss Armstrong that your horse will be brought
back, and that I saw you off on the east-bound train, which is quite
true. You've brought back the horse, and you did go east on the train.
Miss Armstrong thinks you have become tired of waiting for her father,
and that you've gone either to Chicago or New York."

"Am I to regard myself as your prisoner, then?"

"Prisoner is an ugly word, and we are not entitled to call ourselves
gaolers, but if you wouldn't mind looking on it in that way, it's all
the same to us."

"Well, truthful Jim, I'm your man in every sense of the word. Let us
begin our amicable journey. I yearn for the bunk house."

"You will keep silent? No shouting or calling for help? There's no help
to be had anyhow, and a noise would merely alarm the women."

"I recognise the necessity for silence, and I shall make no outcry.
Indeed, my whole future conduct while with you will be governed by the
strictest secrecy. When I get tired of the bunk house I shall merely
cut all your throats while you are asleep, and will do it in the
quietest and gentlest manner."