[Illustration: "'I may add that I am unarmed, so if you keep your guns in readiness you need fear no reprisal on my part.'"] "I'm afraid Peter can't carry any messages; indeed, it's not at all necessary. I've told Miss Armstrong that your horse will be brought back, and that I saw you off on the east-bound train, which is quite true. You've brought back the horse, and you did go east on the train. Miss Armstrong thinks you have become tired of waiting for her father, and that you've gone either to Chicago or New York." "Am I to regard myself as your prisoner, then?" "Prisoner is an ugly word, and we are not entitled to call ourselves gaolers, but if you wouldn't mind looking on it in that way, it's all the same to us." "Well, truthful Jim, I'm your man in every sense of the word. Let us begin our amicable journey. I yearn for the bunk house." "You will keep silent? No shouting or calling for help? There's no help to be had anyhow, and a noise would merely alarm the women." "I recognise the necessity for silence, and I shall make no outcry. Indeed, my whole future conduct while with you will be governed by the strictest secrecy. When I get tired of the bunk house I shall merely cut all your throats while you are asleep, and will do it in the quietest and gentlest manner." Jim laughed. "I guess we can take care of our throats, but I'm much obliged for the suggestion, which may come in handy if you get funny, as I said before." They reached the bunk house by a circuitous route. A fine fire of logs was blazing on the ample hearth, for even in summer a fire was good to look at when night came on, at that elevation. When Stranleigh sat down to supper, he regretted more than ever the civilised fare of the farm house. The menu was rough, but plentiful, and they all sat together at the long table. A meal was a serious event, and they partook of it in silence. It was evident that the men were going to adopt full precautions, for while they supped one of them sat by the door, a rifle over his knees. He came in for the second course, and another took his place. After the table was cleared, they all sat round the big fire, and smoked. Remembering that the best tobacco in the world came from the south-east of their country, the aroma of the weed they had chosen was not as grateful to Stranleigh's nostrils as might have been expected, so partly for good fellowship, and partly for his own protection, he presented each with a fine Havana cigar, such as would be welcomed in a London club, where pipes are not permitted. The men amiably accepted this contribution, but each put the cigar in his pocket against a future occasion, and went on with his pipe. Cheap as was the tobacco they were using, it was naturally scarce among men who had received no money for some months.