"That's right, grunt. But you'll grunt harder when I get through with you. And understand me, and if you don't get through this time, Harry here will slice off a few slabs of flesh so you'll fit. Harry'll do a good job too, and don't you forget it, for he used to slaughter cattle on a range out in Missouri. Now draw in your belly unless you want to lose some skin. Heave away boys." The bandits counting, "one, two, three," gave a mighty pull. This time the medicine man came through, but little rivulets of blood trickled down his sides as they pulled him into the brilliantly lighted room. There they removed his blindfold and released his arms, after first taking possession of his knife. The redskin's glance swept the room, then rested on Dew Drop. But the little Indian maiden was acting her part to perfection. Tied hand and foot, she had been stood against one side of the chamber, where she rested, her eyes blazing with well-assumed hate at her captors. "Big Bear kill um pale faces," she gritted. "Never you mind about Big Bear," retorted Tony. "If there's any killing going on we will take a hand in it ourselves. We shall not hurt you if you keep quiet--" "Indian girl no fraid white man. She stick um knife some day, maybe." "Ho, ho," roared Texas. "Our little pussey has sharp claws," interjected Homely Harry. Frank had been taken into the next chamber, an apartment somewhat smaller than the one they were in, and there they carried the Indian medicine man after having instructed him as to what was expected of him. They planked him down beside the wounded man. Frank's right hand slipped down to his trusty "Colt." But the Indian made no move. Tony's face grew stony. "You red devil," he cried, "don't get stubborn. Do as we demand and no harm will come to you, but if you don't fix this man up inside of ten minutes--by the watch, remember--you're a dead Indian. Get busy!" The Indian bent a keen glance on Tony, then looked sharply from one to the other of the assemblage as if to satisfy himself that he was not being tricked. But there was no trickery lurking at the corners of the stern mouths of the desperate men. "Kill um pale face," urged Dew Drop with a vicious snap of the jaws. "Ugh," grunted the medicine man with a shake of his head, as he slowly began drawing a variety of herbs from his belt. These he quickly meshed together with a stone, and, forming them into a poultice applied it to the wounds of Frank James. The latter let out a yell and tugged at his gun. But Tony anticipating just such a move, closed over his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Easy pard," he cautioned. "The poultice is drawing out the pizen. It won't hurt but a minute, will it old sawbones?" peering up into the savage face before him for confirmation of his words. "White man cry out, then hurt go way," grunted the savage. "There, what did I tell you," chortled Tony. "Poultice goes on, you yell like--like--like you did, and pain goes away. That's it."