It seemed to him that his talks with his mother, and even his thoughts and desires to get away, had become known to Snaky Pete, when the latter sent for him, commanding him sharply to appear at once. On arriving at the hut, he saw Nomad and Pizen Jane bound and prisoners. A startling fear that he was to be commanded to shoot not only Nomad but his mother came to terrify him. “Tie him!” Snaky Pete roared. The road agents threw themselves upon the fear-stricken youth, quickly subdued him, and bound him. Then Snaky Pete took occasion to explain to his men just what he meant to do. “Buffalo Bill thinks mighty well, seems to me, of them three people,” he said, pointing to the three prisoners. “It’s my opinion that Pool and his mother got in here on purpose to betray the band, and lead enemies to it. In my jedgment, they’d have done something to-night, by way of weakenin’ the barricades, mebbe, that would have got us all killed er captured.” The murmurs of the desperadoes rose unpleasantly as they listened to these accusations. “I been watchin’ Pool ever sence he refused to shoot that old duffer there when I ordered him to. That’s one p’int in the proof that he is ole Nomad’s friend and Cody’s friend; and that woman I know to be the pizenest rattlesnake in many ways that ever crawled on the earth. “Jes’ the same, I ain’t goin’ to shoot ’em--not now! I want ’em put up in front of the barricades, where the troopers can see ’em; and then, if the soldiers want to shoot into the barricades, let ’em do it.” It was a long speech, and its utterance cost him effort and pain; yet he felt savagely gratified by it. He had determined on the death of Pizen Jane, and of Pool Clayton and Nick Nomad. If the troopers, in trying to take the barricades, killed the three, well and good; for a time he hoped their position there would hold the soldiers back. If the prisoners were not thus slain, he would have them shot as enemies after the coming fight was over. He still had confidence in his men and in the strength of his position, and was feverishly vengeful and defiant. Pool Clayton wilted and cried out for mercy when he was dragged by the road agents out to one of the barricades, and was lifted over it and tied to the logs of which it was composed. His mother was tied by his side. They were on the outside of the barricade, and looked up the dark pass, where they half expected to see soon the flaming of the carbines of troopers. Placed thus, where the rain of lead could not miss them, it seemed to Pool Clayton that his end was at hand. He cried out in bitterness and anguish of spirit, reproaching himself for the evil course which had led to this horrible fate. “Pool,” said Pizen Jane, touched by his moaning outcries, “there aire things that aire a heap worse’n to die this way; and one of the things that aire worse is bein’ a successful road agent. Fer that is a thing that would shore destroy you, body and soul.”