“Young feller,” said Toby Sam, “we aire fer the present believin’ what you’ve told us about them emeralds. We’re goin’ to hold you, because, if you’ve lied, then we’ll have a happy settlement with you later; and, further, because we wants to hear what the boss says about it. But we’re goin’ to send a man to the railroad. He’ll manage to git into communication with the young lady you’re sweet on; and he’ll say to her: ‘We’re holdin’ the man you expect to marry. You’ve got certain emeralds we’re interested in. Hand over them emeralds, and we’ll let your feller go free. Otherwise, we cuts short his career with a swift bullet!’” “And now, to furnish proof to her that we have really got you, and aire meanin’ bizness, we’re goin’ to ask ye to write her a little letter--jes’ a few words from you to her, to that effeck. If she does hand over the emeralds to our man, well and good fer you; but if she don’t, then we ruther think that we’ll snuff out your life lamp in a hurry. What d’ye say?” Bruce took time to consider this. “May I write what I please,” he asked, “or what I’m ordered?” “You writes what we tells you.” “Then I refuse to write anything.” He set his jaws stubbornly. Toby Sam’s big revolver appeared again, threatening him. “That’s all right,” said Clayton. “Shoot me, if you want to, and then you’ll never get those emeralds.” “What’ll you write?” Toby Sam demanded. There were harsh and angry cries from the other men. “I’ll write to her to sell enough of the gems to get a thousand dollars, and to pay it over only after I’m released.” “Well, you don’t! We has all them emeralds, or we has your life!” “Crack away!” said Clayton defiantly. “If you kill me, remember that you won’t get anything.” CHAPTER XXXVII. SETTING A TRAP. While they were still talking, Black John made his appearance, riding up in such furious haste that his horse was white with foam. He had circled the pursuers and got ahead of them. “Git a move on ye!” he commanded. “But, see here,” said Toby Sam, “does you understand ther situation? This feller didn’t have the emeralds at all, but the girl’s got ’em, and she’s on the stage; so we’re figurin’ about sendin’ a man to the railroad, and tryin’ to open up negotiations with her, and sorter trade him to her fer the emeralds. We reckon it may work.” Black John answered, with an oath: “She didn’t go on the stage, but jumped out; and now she’s with Buffalo Bill, Pawnee Bill, and that old trapper, and they’re follerin’ your trail.” It was a study in human nature to watch the effect of this revelation. It held singular proof of the fear which the names of Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill had inspired in such men. They were almost in a panic, some of them jerking the heads of their horses round as if they wished to ride away as quickly as they could.