With that unwinking gaze the ranchman beat down his lies, while fear dripped in perspiration from the pallid face of the prisoner. Bucky had let Cullison take the center of the stage. He had observed a growing distress mount and ride the victim. Now he stepped in to save the man with an alternative at which Blackwell might be expected not to snatch eagerly perhaps, but at least to be driven toward. "This man is my prisoner, Mr. Cullison. From what I can make out you ought to strip his hide off and hang it up to dry. But I've got first call on him. If he comes through with the truth about the W. & S. Express robbery, I've got to protect him." Luck understood the ranger. They were both working toward the same end. The immediate punishment of this criminal was not the important issue. It was merely a club with which to beat him into submission, and at that a moral rather than a physical one. But the owner of the Circle C knew better than to yield to Bucky too easily. He fought the point out with him at length, and finally yielded reluctantly, in such a way as to aggravate rather than relieve the anxiety of the convict. "All right. You take him first," he finally conceded harshly. Bucky kept up the comedy. "I'll take him, Mr. Cullison. But if he tells me the truth--and if I find out it's the whole truth--there'll be nothing doing on your part. He's my prisoner. Understand that." Metaphorically, Blackwell licked the hand of his protector. He was still standing, but his attitude gave the effect of crouching. "I aim to do what's right, Captain O'Connor. Whatever's right. You ask me any questions." "I want to know all about the W. & S. robbery, everything, from start to finish." "Honest, I wish I could tell you. But I don't know a thing about it. Cross my heart, I don't." "No use, Blackwell. If I'm going to stand by you against Mr. Cullison, you'll have to tell the truth. Why, man, I've even got the mask you wore and the cloth you cut it from." "I reckon it must a-been some one else, Major. Wisht I could help you, but I can't." Bucky rose. "All right. If you can't help me, I can't help you." Apparently he dismissed the matter from his mind, for he looked at his watch and turned to the cattleman. "Mr. Cullison, I reckon I'll run out and have some supper. Do you mind staying here with this man till I get back?" "No. That's all right, Bucky. Don't hurry, I'll keep him entertained." Perhaps it was not by chance that his eye wandered to a blacksnake whip hanging on the wall. O'Connor sauntered to the door. The frightened gaze of the prisoner clung to him as if for safety. "Major--Colonel--you ain't a-going," he pleaded. "Only for an hour or two. I'll be back. I wouldn't think of saying good-by--not till we reach Yuma." With that the door closed behind him. Blackwell cried out, hurriedly, eagerly. "Mister O'Connor!"