out you."

"It's mighty inconvenient, squire. I'm a good many thousand miles away
from home, and----"

"Peace, fool! Produce whatever you have of value."

"I haven't got much. You've tackled the wrong man, squire."

"Fletcher, search that man!" said the captain of the band.

Dick Fletcher dismounted from his horse, and with evident alacrity
advanced to the side of the Yankee.

"I think we've met before," said Obed significantly.

"I think we have," said the outlaw, showing his teeth. "I told you we
should meet again."

"I can't say I'm overjoyed at the meeting. However, I respect you more
now, when you show yourself in your true colors, than when you sneaked
up to me at night, and searched my pockets, pretending all the while to
be a friend."

"Take care how you talk!" said Fletcher, frowning. "Yesterday you were
three to one, now you are in my power."

"So you're a highway robber, are you, Fletcher? Well, I can't say I'm
very much surprised. I guess that's what you're most fit for."

"Do you want me to kill you?" said Fletcher, touching his hip pocket.
"It isn't safe for you to insult me."

"Just so! You have a right to be brave with all them men at your side."

"What are you doing there, Dick Fletcher? Why don't you proceed to
business?" demanded the leader impatiently.

"Empty your pockets, Stackpole!" said Fletcher in a peremptory tone.

"All right."

The Yankee plunged his hands into his pockets, and produced in
succession a jackknife, a plug of tobacco, a bunch of keys, and a couple
of buttons.

"Take them, Fletcher," he said, "if you want 'em more than I do."

"What do you mean with this tomfoolery?" demanded Fletcher, perceiving
an impatient frown on the face of his chief. "Hand over your money."

"I guess you'll have to search me, Fletcher. You've done it before,"
answered Obed imperturbably. "I've mislaid my money, and you may know
where it is better than I do."

Fletcher took him at his word, and proceeded to search, using some
roughness about it.

"Be careful, Fletcher," said Obed. "I'm a tender plant, and mustn't be
roughly handled."

Every pocket was searched, but no money was found. Dick Fletcher looked
puzzled.

"I can't find anything," he said to the captain.

"Rip open his clothes," said the leader impatiently. "He has some place
of concealment for his gold, but it won't avail. We shall find it."

Fletcher whipped out a knife and was about to obey directions, but Obed
a