“If he was hiking for Chihuahua he's been hitting a mighty crooked trail. I don't savvy it, him knowing the country as well as they say he does,” the first speaker made answer. The traveler's circling eye now discovered two more men, each of them covering him with a rifle. A voice from the rear assured him there was also a fifth member to the party. “Look out! He's awake,” it warned. The young man's hand inadvertently moved toward his revolver-butt. This drew a sharp imperative order from one of the men in front. “Throw up your hands, and damn quick!” “You seem to have the call, gentlemen,” he smiled. “Would you mind telling me what it's all about?” “You know what it's all about as well as we do. Collect his gun, Tom.” “This hold-up business seems to be a habit in this section. Second time to-day I've been the victim of it,” said the victim easily. “It will be the last,” retorted one of the men grimly. “If you're after the mazuma you've struck a poor bank.” “You've got your nerve,” cried one of the men in a rage; and another demanded: “Where did you get that hawss?” “Why, I got it--” The young man stopped in the middle of his sentence. His jaw clamped and his eyes grew hard. “I expect you better explain what right you got to ask that question.” The man laughed without cordiality. “Seeing as I have owned it three years I allow I have some right.” “What's the use of talking? He's the man we want, broke in another impatiently. “Who is the man you want?” asked their prisoner. “You're the man we want, Jim Kinney.” “Wrong guess. My name is Larry Neill. I'm from the Panhandle and I've never been in this part of the country till two days ago.” “You may have a dozen names. We don't care what you call yourself. Of course you would deny being the man we're after. But that don't go with us.” “All right. Take me back to Fort Lincoln, or take me to the prison officials. They will tell you whether I am the man.” The leader of the party pounced on his slip. “Who mentioned prison? Who told you we wanted an escaped prisoner?” “He's give himself away,” triumphed the one edged Tom. “I guess that clinches it. He's riding Maloney's hawss. He's wounded; so's the man we want. He answers the description--gray eyes, tall, slim, muscular. Same gun--automatic Colt. Tell you there's nothin' to it, Duffield.” “If you're not Kinney, how come you with this hawss? He stole it from a barn in Fort Lincoln last night. That's known,” said the leader, Duffield. The imperilled man thought of the girl bing toward the border with her brother and the remembrance padlocked his tongue. “Take me to the proper authorities and I'll answer questions. But, I'll not talk here. What's the use? You don't believe a word I say.” “You spoke the truth that time,” said one. “If you ever want to do any explaining now's the hour,” added another. “I'll do mine later, gentlemen.” They looked at each other and one of them spoke. “It will be too late to explain then.”