"Bill, open your eyes! Why would you not do as I wanted you to?" he murmured bitterly to himself. A second groan answered him. Smith called for water, and from a canteen drenched the pallid forehead, talking softly meanwhile; but his efforts to restore consciousness were unavailing. He turned to where two of the cowboys had dragged Karg to the ground and three others had their old companion Seagrue in hand. While two held huge revolvers within six inches of his head, the third was adjusting a rope-knot under his ear. Whispering Smith became interested. "Hold on!" said he mildly, "what is loose? What are you going to do?" "We're going to hang these fellows," answered Stormy, with a volley of hair-raising imprecations. "Oh, no! Just put them on horses under guard." "That's what we're going to do," exclaimed the foreman. "Only we're going to run 'em over to those cottonwoods and drive the horses out from under 'em. Stand still, you tow-headed cow-thief!" he cried, slipping the noose up tight on George Seagrue's neck. "See here," returned Whispering Smith, showing some annoyance, "you may be joking, but I am not. Either do as I tell you or release those men." "Well, I guess we are not joking very much. You heard me, didn't you?" demanded Stormy angrily. "We are going to string these damned critters up right here in the draw on the first tree." Whispering Smith drew a pocket-knife and walked to Flat Nose, slit the rope around his neck, pushed him out of the circle, and stood in front of him. "You can't play horse with my prisoners," he said curtly. "Get over here, Karg. Come, now, who is going to walk in first? You act like a school-boy, Gorman." Hard words and a wrangle followed, but Smith did not change expression, and there was a backdown. "Have you fellows let Du Sang get away while you were playing fool here?" he asked. "Du Sang's over the hill there on his horse, and full of fight yet," exclaimed one. "Then we will look him up," suggested Smith. "Come, Seagrue." "Don't go over there. He'll get you if you do," cried Gorman. "Let us see about that. Seagrue, you and Karg walk ahead. Don't duck or run, either of you. Go on." Just over the brow of the hill near which the fight had taken place, a man lay below a ledge of granite. The horse from which he had fallen was grazing close by, but the man had dragged himself out of the blinding sun to the shade of the sagebrush above the rock--the trail of it all lay very plain on the hard ground. Watching him narrowly, Smith, with his prisoners ahead and the cowboys riding in a circle behind, approached. "Du Sang?" The man in the sagebrush turned his head. Smith walked to him and bent down. "Are you suffering much, Du Sang?" The wounded man, sinking with shock and internal hemorrhage, uttered a string of oaths.