o conversant
with the path across the mire, and was anxious to have obtained a
clearer view of him.

The raider drew his horse up within a few yards of the captive. Horrocks
had a good view of the man's commanding, eagle face. In spite of himself
he could not help but feel a strange admiration for this lawless Breed.

There was something wonderfully fascinating and lofty in the hustler's
direct, piercing gaze as, proudly disdainful, he looked down upon his
discomfited prisoner.

He seemed in no hurry to speak. A shadowy smile hovered about his face
as he eyed the officer. Then he turned away and looked over to the
eastern horizon. He turned back again and drawled out a greeting. It was
not cordial but it was characteristic of him.

"Wal?"

Horrocks made no reply. The Breed laughed mockingly, and leant forward
upon the horn of his saddle.

"Guess you've satisfied your curiosity--some. Say, the boys didn't
handle you too rough, I take it. I told 'em to go light."

Horrocks was constrained to retort.

"Not so rough as you'll be handled when you get the law about you."

"Now I call that unfriendly. Guess them's gopher's words. But say, pard,
the law ain't got me yet. Wot d'ye think of the road across the keg?
Mighty fine trail that." He laughed as though enjoying a good joke.

Horrocks felt that he must terminate this interview. The Breed had a
most provoking way with him. His self-satisfaction annoyed his hearer.

"How much longer do you intend to keep me here?" Horrocks exclaimed
bitterly. "I suppose you mean murder; you'd better get on with it and
stop gassing. Men of your kidney don't generally take so much time over
that sort of business."

Retief seemed quite unruffled.

"Murder? Why, man, I didn't bring you here to murder you. Guess ef I'd a
notion that way you'd 'a' been done neat long ago. No, I jest wanted to
show you what you wanted to find out. Now I'm goin' to let you go, so
you, an' that skunk Lablache'll be able to chin-wag over this night's
doin's. That's wot I'm here fer right now."

As he finished speaking the Breed circled Golden Eagle round behind the
tree, and, bending low down from the saddle, he cut the rope which held
the policeman's wrists. Horrocks, feeling himself freed, stepped quickly
from the bush into the open, and faced about towards his liberator. As
he did so he found himself looking up into the muzzle of Retief's
revolver. He stood his ground unflinchingly.

"Now, see hy