All this while there was no movement round the fire, only that I saw Apache Kid’s hand drawing down the blankets from his face. Pinkerton and the half-breed were a little beyond Donoghue and lying somewhat back so that I did not know whether or not they were awakened by this talk. And just then Dan sat up suddenly, glared out upon the plain to the four points of the compass, and screamed out: "The hosses! Where’s the hosses?" We were all bolt upright then, like jumping-jacks, and leaning on our palms and twisting about staring out strained into the moon-pallid plain. Dan leapt to his feet. "The hosses is gone!" he cried, and he rushed across to the two horses that were tied with the lariats. "Lend me a hoss," he cried. "We must go out and see where Pete has got to with them horses." "I lend you dis—you sumracadog!" said the half-breed in his guttural voice and he flung up his polished revolver in Dan’s face. It was Apache Kid who restored some semblance of order to the camp. "All right, Dan," he said. "Don’t worry. It’s too late now." We all turned to him in wonder. "Pete thought it advisable to take the whole bunch away. He agreed that it was advisable to make what little capital he could out of his expedition into this part of the country. On the whole, I think he was sensible. Yes—sensible is the word," he said, thoughtfully wagging his head to the fire and then looking up and beaming on us all. "What you mean?" cried Farrell. "Just what I say," said Apache Kid. "He simply walked the whole bunch quietly away five minutes after he bunched them together out there." "You saw him doin’ that! You saw his game and said nothing!" cried Farrell. "Even so!" replied Apache Kid. Farrell glared before him speechless. "What in creation made him do that?" said Dan, going back like a man dazed to his former place. "You mean _who_ in creation made him do that?" Apache Kid said lightly: "and I have to acknowledge that it was I." "You!" thundered Farrell. "I did n’t see you say a word to him. You bought him off some ways, did you? How did you do it?" "O!" said Apache Kid. "I simply gave him a hint of the terrors in store for him if he remained here. You heard me; and he was a man who could understand a hint such as I gave. I took him first, as being easiest. But I have no doubt that you two also will think better of your intention and depart—before it is too late. He went first. You, Mr. Farrell, I think, will have the honour of going last." "I don’t know what you mean," said Farrell, like a man scenting something beyond him. "No," said Apache Kid. "I understand that. You will require some other method used upon you. I don’t know if it was, as you suggested, the gentleman’s religion that was to blame for it, but he suffered from the fear of man. That was why he went away. Now you, Farrell, I don’t think you fear man, God——" "No! Nor devil!" cried Farrell.