Der middle of him is der best place. I shout, und you
press quite steady."

He spoke with a quiet precision that had its effect; and, whatever the
girl felt, she obeyed each command in rotation. There was, however, one
danger which the stranger realized, and that was that with an involuntary
contraction of the forefinger she might anticipate the last one.

"She'll shoot me before she means to," he said, with a little gasp. "Come
and take the condemned pistol."

"Der middle of him!" said Muller tranquilly. "No movement make, you!"

Dropping the fork he moved forward, not in front of the man, but to his
side, and whipped the pistol from his belt.

"One turn make," he said. "So! Your hand behind you. Lotta, you will now a
halter get."

The girl's loose bodice rose and fell as she laid down the rifle, but she
was swift, and in less than another minute Muller had bound his captive's
hands securely behind his back and cross-lashed them from wrist to elbow.
He inspected the work critically and then nodded, as if contented.

[Illustration: "SHE'LL SHOOT ME BEFORE SHE MEANS TO."--Page 66.]

"Lotta," he said, "put der saddle on der broncho horse. Then in der house
you der cordial find, und of it one large spoonful mit der water take. My
pipe you bring me also, und then you ride for Mr. Grant."

The girl obeyed him; and when the drumming of horse-hoofs died away Muller
sat down in front of his prisoner, who now lay upon a pile of prairie hay,
and with his usual slow precision lighted his big meerschaum. The American
watched him for a minute or two, and then grew red in the face as a fit of
passion shook him.

"You condemned Dutchman!" he said.

Muller laughed. "Der combliment," he said, "is nod of much use to-night."

It was an hour later when Grant and several horsemen arrived, and he
nodded as he glanced at the prisoner.

"I figured it was you. There's not another man on the prairie mean enough
for this kind of work," he said, pointing to the kerosene-can. "You didn't
even know enough to do it decently, and you're about the only American
who'd have let an old man tie his hands."

The prisoner winced perceptibly. "Well," he said hoarsely, glancing
towards the hayfork, rifle, and pistol, which still lay at Muller's feet,
"if you're astonished, look at the blamed Dutchman's armoury."

"I've one thing to ask you," Grant said sternly. "It's going to pay you to
be quite straight with me. Who hired you?"

There was d