Part 17 (1/2)

Stiger's pistol was now useless, and as he could not stand up, because of the intense pain in his knee, handling his knife was out of the question. As he sat up, the boy faced him sternly.

”Up with your hands, Stiger,” he said, sternly; and the hands went up, and Dan was master of the situation.

CHAPTER XVI.

AFTER A MISSING MUSTANG.

”What are you going to do with me?” asked Hank Stiger, after a moment of painful silence, during which Dan glanced toward Henry, to find his friend reviving rapidly.

”You'll find out later, Stiger. I can tell you one thing, you've gotten yourself in a pretty tight box.”

”It wasn't my fault,--you forced the shooting,” was the sullen response. ”Why didn't you leave me alone from the start?”

”Because I am bound to have those papers and the other articles you stole, that's why.”

”I took nothing, I swear it.”

”Do you expect me to believe you,--after what has happened here, and after that affair of the deer?”

At this Stiger was silent. He wanted to get up and rush at Dan, despite the levelled pistol, but the wounded knee held him back. Had he been a full-blooded Indian he would have suffered in silence, but, being only a half-breed, and of poor Indian and white blood at that, he groaned dismally.

”Dan!” The cry came faintly from Henry, who had slowly raised himself.

”Where--what--oh, I remember, now!” And he sank back again.

”It's all right, Henry; I've made Stiger a prisoner.”

”A prisoner!” whined the half-breed. ”Ain't I suffered enough already?

My leg is somethin' fearful!” and he groaned again.

”You brought it all on yourself, Stiger, so you need not complain to me.”

”I didn't, you----”

”I won't listen to any more explanations. Throw your knife over here, and be careful you don't hit anybody with it.”

The half-breed fumed and raved, but all to no purpose, and at last the knife came over, and was followed by the broken pistol.

”Now don't you dare to move,” went on Dan, and then turned his attention to Henry. Not far away was a little brook flowing into the Guadalupe, and here Dan procured some water with which he bathed his friend's wound.

The departure from the town sh.o.r.e had been noted by several lumbermen, and, having heard the pistol-shots, several came over to learn if a fight was going on. By calling out, the lumbermen managed to locate our friends and soon came up to them. They listened to Dan's tale with close attention.

”We ought to go fer to string the half-breed up,” was the comment of one of the woodsmen. ”We've got enough trouble on hand without allowin'

sech chaps to make more.”

”Thet's jest the size on it,” added another. ”String him up on the spot.”

But Dan would not countenance this, nor would Henry, who had now fully recovered, although the bullet had left an ugly scratch which he was bound to wear to the day of his death. Finally a compromise was made with Stiger, who offered to hobble down to the river, although scarcely able to walk. The threat to hang him had rendered the half-breed thoroughly sober.