an muscular. After a few minutes' climbing he was forced to pause and
rest his burden at the foot of a tree. But the valley and the man in the
underbrush were no longer in view.

"Come," said the major quietly, "unstrap my ankles and I'll WALK up.
We'll never get there at this rate."

The sheriff paused, wiped his grimy face with his grimier blouse, and
stood looking at his prisoner. Then he said slowly:--

"Look yer! Wot's your little game? Blessed if I kin follow suit."

For the first time the major burst into a rage. "Blast it all! Don't you
see that if I'm discovered HERE, in this way, there's not a man on the
Bar who would believe that I walked into your trap, not a man, by God,
who wouldn't think it was a trick of yours and mine together?"

"Or," interrupted the sheriff slowly, fixing his eyes on his prisoner,
"not a man who would ever trust Major Overstone for a leader again?"

"Perhaps," said the major, unmovedly again, "I don't think EITHER OF US
would ever get a chance of being trusted again by any one."

The sheriff still kept his eyes fixed on his prisoner, his gloomy face
growing darker under its grime. "THAT ain't the reason, major. Life and
death don't mean much more to you than they do to me in this yer game. I
know that you'd kill me quicker nor lightning if you got the chance; YOU
know that I'm takin' you to the gallows."

"The reason is that I want to leave Wynyard's Bar," said the major
coolly; "and even this way out of it will suit me."

The sheriff took his revolver from his pocket and deliberately cocked
it. Then, leaning down, he unbuckled the strap from the major's ankles.
A wild hope that his incomprehensible captive might seize that moment to
develop his real intent--that he might fly, fight, or in some way act up
to his reckless reputation--sustained him for a moment, but in the next
proved futile. The major only said, "Thank you, Tom," and stretched his
cramped legs.

"Get up and go on," said the sheriff roughly.

The major began to slowly ascend the hill, the sheriff close on his
heels, alert, tingling, and watchful of every movement. For a few
moments this strain upon his faculties seemed to invigorate him, and his
gloom relaxed, but presently it became too evident that the prisoner's
pinioned arms made it impossible for him to balance or help himself on
that steep trail, and once or twice he stumbled and reeled dangerously
to one side. With an oath the sheriff caught him, and t