Part 22 (1/2)

”Wa-al, thet's jes' a sample of ther way I'm willin' ter treat yer as long ez you're here. I've got a hard name around ther alkali, but I ain't ez black ez I'm painted.”

To this the two young prisoners made no reply, and Red Bill looked at them searchingly, but if he expected to read anything from their faces he was speedily undeceived.

”Now, then,” he went on, ”as you'll have guessed, I didn't kidnap you two fer fun. I did it fer infermation. I reckin' you know pretty well the location of Jim Bell's mine.'

”No better than you do,” responded Roy boldly; ”I guess that scoundrel Juan told you all you wanted to know.”

”Oh, as fur as thet goes,” rejoined Red Bill easily, ”I could ride right frum hyar to yer camp. But what I'm gittin' at is this: You've seen the papers Jim Bell is goin' ter file. You know ther exact location. Thet's what I want. Give it to me an' I'll hev my men take yer as close ter yer camp as it's safe ter go without kickin' up a rumpus.”

”In other words, you wish me to betray Mr. Bell's plans to you before he--”

Roy stopped. He had been on the verge of saying, ”Before he's filed the claim himself.” just in time, however, he recollected that this might be news to the outlaw, and he stopped short. But Red Bill was as astute as a desert fox.

”Before he files the claim himself, you wuz goin' ter say, I be-lieve,” he drawled, purposely accentuating his words so that they fell like drops of ice water from his cold lips.

Roy could have bitten his tongue out. Quite unmeaningly he had betrayed a secret which might prove of tremendous import in the desperate game Red Bill seemed bent on playing.

”I said nothing about the filing or not filing of a claim,” parried Roy, after a pause.

”Yer don't hev ter say everything ter make yerself understood, younker,” snarled Red Bill, facing the boy and blinking his little red-rimmed orbs into Roy's honest open countenance.

”Thet's somethin' you've foun' out anyhow, Bill,” drawled the red-sashed young outlaw, drawing his thin lips back in a sarcastic smile.

Roy felt himself turning red with chagrin. He had intended to play a cunning game with Red Bill, but the outlaw seemed to be capable of reading his mind. Steeling himself to be more careful in the future he awaited the further questions of his inquisitor. Upon the manner in which he answered them he felt that not alone his safety and Peggy's depended, but also the security and possibly the lives of the party in the distant arroyo.

CHAPTER XVIII

AH SING'S JOSS

”That'll be all on that line,” said Red Bill presently. He turned to his companion.

”Got a pencil and a bit of paper, Buck?” he asked.

The red-sashed one produced the required pencil--a much bitten stub-and then set off toward the cook house for a bit of paper. He returned with the fly leaf out of an old account book.

”Good enough,” said Red Bill. ”Now then younker,” turning to Roy, ”you take this pencil, lay that paper on that flat rock and write as I tell you.”

Wondering what was coming, Roy obeyed, while Peggy with wondering eyes looked on anxiously at the strange scene. It had grown quite still in the little valley. The only sounds that occasionally interrupted the hush were the shouts of the men tethering the ponies and the harsh scream of a buzzard swinging high against the burning blue of the desert sky.

”Mister Bell, dear sir,” began Red Bill, dictating in his rasping voice.

”All right,” said Roy, transcribing the words to the paper. The boy had an inkling of what was to come, but he didn't wish to make trouble before he actually had to.

”Got that, did you?”

'Yes.

”Very well. Now write this: 'Me an' my sister is in the hands of those who are our friends at present. It depends on you if they remain so. The messenger who brings you this will arrange for the transfer of the location papers of the mine to these parties. If you don't do this they will--'”