things I myself had seen would have
prompted me to avail myself of the concealment offered by the fence
row's tangle. But these matters were all far from my thoughts, and I
merely turned back to the side to let the horsemen pass. I was walking
with my head downcast at a point where the moon bathed the road, when
the horses behind broke into a canter. As they passed me one of the
riders, with a surprised shout to his companions, wheeled his mount to a
halt just before me.

"Hold on thar!" sang out a voice. "Let's take this feller along with
us."

I looked resentfully up and as I did so recognized the figure above me
as that of Curt Dawson. When I met his eyes I met also the glitter of a
leveled pistol.

I was in no mood to be trifled with and I knew that surrender to such a
capture meant disaster to Marcus's plan of attack. Their purpose was to
dispose of a dangerous witness, and since my testimony was to be damning
to Curt Dawson, he above all others had a motive to serve which would
make him recklessly desperate. I was unarmed, but I sprang forward
meaning to strike up the weapon or force him to shoot without parley. I
did not greatly care which alternative he chose, but I had no mind to be
taken alive. Even if I succeeded in overpowering Garvin's gun-man, there
was still his ally to reckon with. However, neither thing happened. Curt
Dawson, merely laughed in his indolent fashion and jerked his horse back
in its haunches, sliding from the saddle as he did so.

His fellow-traveler had now reinforced him and the two of them came over
and faced me.

"Bud," said the gun-man with a slow, contemptuous drawl, "we hain't
ergoin' ter kill this feller--leastways not yit. Them's the orders. He
hain't ergoin' ter pester us inter hit, but we're goin' ter take him
along with us. He hain't got no gun. I reckon you kin put up yours."
Then he turned calmly to me and added, "Now, stranger, I low yer gwine
ter come along--or get the hell of a lickin'--and then come along
anyhow."

The second mountaineer slipped his revolver back into the case which,
mountain fashion, he wore strapped to his side beneath his left armpit.
Both men carefully buttoned their leather holsters. Meantime, I looked
from one to the other, gauging their distances, and made up my mind to
attack Dawson first. Then I heard the assassin calmly direct, "Now, Bud,
take hold of him."

CHAPTER XXII

I FAIL TO RETURN HOME.

It was precisely as one migh