I think the voice quieted the horses, if it perturbed us, for they became tractable on the instant and ceased their trembling and waltzing. And there, risen out of a bush before us, stood two men, one with a Winchester at the ready and the other with his left hand raised, the open palm facing us, and a revolver looking at me over that, his "gun hand" being steadied on the left wrist. I had seen Apache Kid in a somewhat similar predicament before, but his coolness again amazed me. And, if I may be permitted to say so, I astonished myself likewise, for after the first leap of the heart I stood quite easy, holding my horse—more like an onlooker than a participant in this unchancy occurrence. "I think you have made a mistake, gentlemen," said Apache Kid. "Oh, no mistake at all," said he with the Winchester. "I ’ve just come out to make you an offer, Apache Kid." "You have my name," said Apache Kid, "but I have n’t the pleasure of yours." "Why," said I, "I ’ve seen that man at the Laughlin House;" and at the same moment Apache Kid recognised the other in a sudden flickering up of one of the nighest stumps. "Why, it’s my old inquisitive friend—the hog," said he, looking on him. "Where did you learn that theatrical style of holding up a gun to a man? Won’t you introduce your friend?" "That’s all right," said the other. "I want you to listen to me. Here’s what we are offering you. You can either come right along with us to Camp Kettle and draw out a sketch plan of where the Lost Cabin Mine lies, or else——" he raised his Winchester. Apache Kid whistled softly. "How would it suit you," said he, after what seemed a pause for considering the situation into which we had fallen, "if I drew up the sketch after you plugged me with the Winchester?" "O!" cried the man. "The loss of a fortune’s on the one hand. The loss o’ your life’s on the other. We give you the choice." "It seems to me," said Apache Kid, "that your hand is the weaker in this game; for on your side is the loss of a fortune or the taking of a life." "I ’d call that the stronger hand, I guess," said the man. "Well, all a matter of the point of view," murmured Apache Kid, with an appearance of great ease. "But presuming that I am aware of the location of that place, what assurance could I have that once you had the sketch in your hands you would n’t slip my wind—in the language of the country?" He with the revolver, I noticed, glanced a moment at his partner at that, but quickly turned his attention to us again. "Besides, I might draw up a fake map and send you off on a wild goose chase," said Apache Kid, as though with a sudden inspiration. "We’ve thought of that," said he with the Winchester, "and you ’d just wait with a friend of ours while we went to make sure o’ the genewinness o’ your plan."