“Oh, he’s gone back in the cave all right, I reckon,” chuckled Tony. “You’re a slick fighter, you are. See the black eye you have given my friend here? Never mind, though, you’ll be paid up for this.” Dick was silent. There was no chance for any further struggles, for his hands had been tied behind him and he knew by the feeling that his revolver had been taken away. “I guess Mudd is up to the hut all right, and the gal, too,” said Tony. “Hustle him along, boys. I’ll go ahead and make sure.” Tony ran on and by the time Dick reached the hut Martin Mudd came out to meet him, with Tony by his side. “Yes, that’s the right boy,” he said, glancing at Dick. “I knew you wouldn’t desert me, Tony. I shan’t forget this.” “Well, you see I fell in with these here friends of mine,” said Tony. “Old cow punchers, every one on ’em. I was going down to Node Ranch for help, but thought I might as well come back and help you out when I met them.” “Help me out still further by giving me a chance to talk to this boy,” said Mudd. “I’ve got something very important to say to him. With the girl stowed away in my place up in the loft the hut gives me just my chance.” “And you want us to stay out--is that the idea?” asked Tony. “Why, yes.” “The boys won’t never consent to it while the whisky jug is inside, as they happen to know it is.” “Go in and get the jug and help yourselves. Here’s the key to the locker,” replied Mudd, thrusting his hand into his pocket, adding: “No, by Jove, it isn’t, either. I must have left it in the pocket of my other coat. Come on in and we’ll all have a drink.” “But what about the boy?” asked Tony. “Oh, tumble him over on the ground. He can’t get up with his hands tied.” “Yes he can, too.” “Then tie his feet into the bargain and make sure. We won’t be gone ten minutes anyhow.” And this was just the way they served poor Dick. Tied hand and foot, he lay there on the shore of the lake filled with anxiety for his friends and forced to listen to the drunken songs and wild shouts of Mudd and his crew inside the hut. The proposed ten minutes had lengthened into an hour and still no one came out of the hut. Mudd seemed to have forgotten all about his proposed talk with Dick, until at last the door of the hut flew open and he came staggering along with his rusty old plug tilted back on his head and his necktie twisted around under his chin. “Hello, Dick--Dick Darrell,” he said, thickly. “Are you there?” “Can’t you see me?” replied Dick. “You could if you weren’t drunk.” “Don’t sass me, boy, for it won’t pay you,” replied Mudd, staggering up to Dick and sitting down upon the ground beside him. His back was now against a pile of rocks, which at this point cropped out upon the shore. “Let me free, Mudd,” said Dick. “Come, now, no use in us two quarreling. Let me free.”