"No! no! boy; you are too hasty. Before we silence him, forever, we must ascertain, if possible, where the girl is." "But, he'll never tell us." "We have that yet to find out. It is my opinion that we can bring him to terms, somehow. Take hold, and we will carry him back to our hole in the hill." Deadwood Dick was accordingly seized by the neck and heels, and borne swiftly and silently toward the western side of the gulch, up among the foothills, into the rift, where the plotters had lain concealed since their arrival. Here he was placed upon the ground in a sitting posture, and his two enemies crouched on either side of him, like beasts ready to spring upon their prey. Below in the valley, the Utes had kindled one solitary fire, and this with a starlike gleam of light from the cabin window, was the only sign of life to be seen through the night's black shroud. The trio in the foothills were evidently quite alone. Alexander Filmore broke the silence. "Well, my gay Deadwood Dick, Prince of the Road, I suppose you wish to have the matter over with, as soon as possible" The road-agent nodded. "Better let him loose in the jaws," suggested Filmore the younger; "or how else shall we get from him what we must know? Take out his gag. I'll hold my six against his pulsometer. If he squawks, I'll silence him, sure as there is virtue in powder and ball!" The elder, after some deliberation, acquiesced, and Dick was placed in possession of his speaking power, while the muzzle of young Filmore's revolver pressed against his breast, warned him to silence and obedience. "Now," said the elder Filmore, "just you keep mum. If you try any trickery, it will only hasten your destruction, which is inevitable!" Deadwood Dick gave a little laugh. "You talk as if you were going to do something toward making me the center of funeralistic attraction." "You'll find out, soon enough, young man. I have not pursued you so long, all for nothing, you may rest assured. Your death will be the only event that can atone for all the trouble you have given me, in the past." "_Is_ that so? Well, you seem to hold all the _trump_ cards, and I reckon you ought to win, though I can't see into your inordinate thirst for _diamonds_, when _spades_ will eventually triumph. Had I a _full hand_ of _clubs_, I am not so sure but what I could _raise_ you, _knaves_ though you are!" "I think not; when kings win, the game is virtually up. We hold altogether to high cards for you, at present, and _beg_ as you may, we shall not _pass_ you." "Don't be too sure of it. The best trout often slips from the hook, when you are sanguine that you have at last been immoderately successful. But, enough of this cheap talk. Go on and say your say, in as few words as possible, for I am in a hurry." Both Filmore, Sr., and Filmore, Jr., laughed at this--it sounded so ridiculously funny to hear a helpless prisoner talk of being in a hurry.