"Yes, that's it. You seem to understand pretty well for a Chinee. You understood enough to clean me out of a couple of hundred dollars last night, too. I reckon you had better give me that money and all the rest you have, before you go on your errand." "Me velly solly," declared Hop, acting as though he really felt bad over it, "but me leavee allee my money in um camp." This was a fact, too, as all he had with him was about five dollars in silver. "I reckon I had better go through you," said the leader of the outlaws. Hop quickly produced what money he had, and then held up his arms to let the man make a search of his clothing. Roche went through him and brought out as many as half a dozen packs of cards, a flask of whisky, several little vials containing liquids and powders, two or three oblong objects that looked like a lot of paper pressed together, some black-looking cigars, a dead mouse, some colored string, and a lot of other small things, too numerous to mention. But there was no money to be found. "That's a nice lot of trash fur a galoot ter have in his pockets," he declared, looking at the pile in disgust. "What are you doing with a dead mouse in your pockets?" "Me feel lat me might git tee hungly some time, and len me have lillee bite to eatee," replied Hop, looking very innocent. The outlaws grinned at this. They had all heard that Chinamen liked to eat rats, so they were not surprised to hear that one ate mice. Even Wild smiled at the way Hop was working it. He now believed that the chances of getting free from the outlaws were improving, for Hop would be apt to manage it in some way. "I'll tell you what you do," said Roche, as Hop proceeded to put the articles back where they had been taken from. "You get your money at the camp and bring that here, too." Allee light, Misler Outlaw, replied Hop. "You will havee um cigar?" He tendered one and, taking it, the outlaw looked at it suspiciously and then cut off the end with his bowie knife. Hop lighted one, too, and then he stood still. "Me allee samee forgittee whattee you say," he said, as he looked puzzled. Cap Roche went over it again. "Oh, allee light. Me understand." The cigar he had given the villain was a good one, and he puffed away at it with no little satisfaction, since it served to soothe his nerves somewhat. Hop took occasion to drop the dead mouse in the pocket of the man who was standing at the side of Wild to prevent his possible escape, and then he turned to go. But he came back again, and, looking at the villain he had played the trick on he said: "You takee my tanglefoot and allee samee puttee in your pockee; me wantee." As it was Roche who had appropriated the flask, the man shook his head and grinned. "See here!" exclaimed the leader, angrily. "You ought to be satisfied that I didn't take more than the whisky. You've got your mouse, so go on and do your errand."