five dollars myself," he said.
And then he rode to one side, and dismounted; he loosened the cinches
and made ready as if to camp. And they all let him.

Now, that was bad for us, again. The gang had our flags and our burros,
and he had our message.

"That's our message. We're carrying it through just for fun and for
practice," called the general. "It's no good to anybody except us."

"Bueno," said the man--which is Mexican or Spanish for "Good." He was
squatting and building a little fire.

"Aren't you going to give it to us and make them let us go?"

He grunted. "Don't bother me. I'm busy."

That was all we could get out of him. Now it was growing dark and cold.
The gang was grumbling and accusing Bill of being "bluffed" and all
that, but they didn't make any effort to attack the man. They all were
afraid of him; they didn't have nerve. They just grumbled and talked of
what Bill ought to have done, and proceeded to cook supper and to loaf
around. Our hands were behind our backs and we were tied like dogs to
trees.

And suddenly, while watching the man, I noticed that he was doing things
left-handed, and quick as a wink I saw that the sole of his left shoe
was worn through! And if he wasn't riding a roan horse, he was riding a
saddle with brass-bound stirrups, anyway. A man may trade horses, but he
keeps to his own saddle. This was the beaver man! We three Scouts
exchanged signs of warning.

"You aren't going to tie us for all night, are you?" demanded
Fitzpatrick.

"Sure," said Bill.

"We'll give you our parole not to try to escape," offered General
Ashley.

"What's that?"

"We'll promise," I explained.

Then they all jeered.

"Aw, promise!" they laughed. "We know all about your promises."

"Scouts don't break their promises," answered the general, hot. "When
we give our parole we mean it. And if we decided to try to escape we'd
tell you and take the parole back. We want to be untied so we can eat."

"All right. We'll untie you," said Bill; and I saw him wink at the other
fellows.

They did. They loosened our hands--but they put ropes on our feet! We
could just walk, and that is all. And Walt (he and Bat were cooking)
poked the fire with our flagstaff. Then he sat on the flags! I tell you,
we were angry!

"This doesn't count," sputtered the general, red as fury.

"You gave us your parole if we'd untie you," jeered Bill. "And we did."

"But you tied us up again."

"We didn't say anything ab