“You kin, but you won’t,” said Louisa. “I reckon you’ll find you’re not as strong as ye think, and moreover if you try to git away there’ll be somebody outside to put a bullet in ye that’ll do better work than Allie’s. We don’t let horse thieves git away so easy as all that.” “Hush, Louisa,” came peremptorily from Christine. “He might as well have the truth. They’ll hang him as high as Haman and you know it,” said Louisa stoutly. “Well, but do wait till he is better.” “Oh, he’s all right. His head aches, maybe, but he’ll git over that by the time they are through with him.” “Louisa, you are perfectly heartless.” “Where was his heart when he came stealing Hero? See here, Mr. Man, whoever you are, you keep yourself quiet. You can’t get away. Every one of us is a good shot, so you’d better make up your mind to take it easy while you can. If you want to go to sleep, we’ll watch. If you try to escape you know what’s waiting for ye. Now make the best of it.” She took a station not far from him, grimly holding a pistol. Pedro had returned and was on guard in the gallery. Christine and Alison snuggled together in a corner. In a half hour the prisoner was sleeping quietly. Louisa, wide awake, kept a ceaseless watch. CHAPTER VI FIDGETTY LOU MAKES A DISCOVERY The first gleam of the morning sun awakened the wounded man. Its beams fell full upon the red locks of Louisa, and shone upon her round face now pale from her vigil. She had not discarded the pistol, though she was weary and heavy-eyed. As the man’s gaze was directed to the girl keeping watch he regarded her with interest. “What’s your name?” he presently snapped out. “Louisa Sparks,” she answered, collecting her scattered thoughts. The man turned his head sharply though the effort made him wince with pain. He uttered an exclamation under his breath. “Where you from?” was his second question. “Kentucky, though I don’t know as it’s any business of yours. Here, shut up and stop asking me questions. I don’t want to talk to you.” A grim smile appeared on the man’s face as he continued to regard the girl by his side. “You seem to be mighty pleased about something,” said Louisa, looking at him disgustedly. He gave a husky sort of chuckle. “You ain’t asked my name,” he said presently. “I don’t want to know it. ’Tain’t nothing to me who you are.” “You’d just as well know. Ever happen to know or hear of anybody named Cyrus Sparks, old Cy Sparks?” Louisa started, the don’t care expression leaving her face. She leaned eagerly forward and gazed at the man intently. Then she arose and softly closed the door. “Are you any kin of mine?” she asked. “If you are I’m ashamed of you.” “I rather guess you’ll have to own me,” was the reply. “I shouldn’t wonder if I was your dad.” Louisa shrank back. “What do you mean? My father died fifteen years ago; my mother told me so.” “Your mother was Louisa Ricketts, wa’n’t she?” “That was her name before she was married.”