an Indian; and he never made a sound. That was good
scouting for anybody, and especially for a one-armed boy, I tell you!
The general and I scarcely breathed. My heart thumped so that I was
afraid it would shake the ground.

When he got near enough, Fitz reached cautiously, and pulled away the
shotgun. Like lightning he opened the breech and shook loose the shell
and kicked it out of the way--and when he closed the breech with a jerk
Bat woke up.

"You keep quiet," snapped Fitz. His eyes were blazing. "If either of you
makes a fuss, I'll pull the trigger." He had the gun aiming straight at
them both. Walt woke, too, and was trying to discover what happened. "Be
quiet, now!"

Those two fellows were frightened stiff. The gun looked ugly, with its
round muzzle leveled at their stomachs, and Fitz behind, his cheeks red
and his eyes angry and steady. But it was funny, too; he might have
pulled trigger, but nothing would have happened, because the gun wasn't
loaded. Of course none of us Scouts would have shot anybody and had
blood on our hands. Fitz had thrown away the shell on purpose so that
there wouldn't be any accident. It's bad to point a gun, whether loaded
or not, at any one. This was a have-to case. Bat and Walt didn't know.
They were white as sheets, and lay rigid.

"Don't you shoot. Look out! That gun might go off," they pleaded; we
could hear their teeth chatter. "If you won't point it at us we'll do
anything you say."

"You bet you'll do anything I say," snapped Fitz, very savage. "You had
us, and now we have you! Unbuckle that belt, you Bat. Don't you touch
the revolver, though. I'm mad and I mean business."

Bat's fingers trembled and he fussed at the belt and unbuckled it, and
off came belt and revolver, and all.

"Toss 'em over."

He tossed them. Fitz put his foot on them.

"Aw, what do you let that one-armed kid bluff you for?" began Walt; and
Fitz caught him up as quick as a wink.

"What are _you_ talking about?" he asked. "I'll give you a job, too. You
take your knife and help cut those two Scouts loose."

"Ain't got a knife," grumbled Walt.

"Yes, you have. I've seen it. Will you, or do you want me to pull
trigger?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? You watch this finger."

"Look out, Walt!" begged Bat. "He will! I know he will! See his finger?
He might do it by accident. Quit, Fitz. We'll cut 'em."

"Don't get up. Just roll," ordered Fitz.

They rolled. He kept the muzzle right