pecting me.
Besides, I shan't feel comfortable until that matter about the fire is
settled. That is the only hold Hoyt has on me now, and as soon as that
is gone he will be the one to feel uncomfortable."

"You will have all the money you need out of the mine," said Bill.
"Hello! I thought none of the men were coming out to-day."

He had heard the sound of hoofs behind, and he and Harry turned at the
same moment. They were then on the stage road, the only real road in the
neighborhood.

Harry looked a long time at the party of five coming up behind them at a
trot, but could not make them out.

"They look like strangers to me," he said, uneasily.

"What shall we do?" asked Bill, quite as uneasy as Harry.

"We might put spurs to the horses, but that would only carry us further
away from Buttercup. Don't act as if you were afraid of anything, Bill.
If they are after me, they can catch me; but it isn't likely they will
want you, so, if it comes to that, you make a bolt and never mind me."

"Well, I guess!" answered Bill, indignantly.

"Don't you see you can hurry back to Buttercup and call on the miners.
They will be after me like bloodhounds."

"Hands up there!" came a sudden command from the rear.

"Turn your horse's head the other way, Bill," whispered Harry, "and
throw up your hands. It'll only be an excuse to shoot, if you don't."

They both faced suddenly about and threw up their hands. It was well,
apparently, that they did, for the whole party behind them had their
revolvers leveled.

"That is the one on the gray horse," said a voice, unpleasantly familiar
to Harry.

Arthur Hoyt came from behind the other horseman and pointed at Harry.

"What do you want?" demanded Harry.

"We want you, youngster," said a man who seemed the leader of the party,
"if your name is Henry Wainwright."

"He can't deny it," said Hoyt, hurriedly.

"I don't intend to," answered Harry, who was beginning to understand
this latest move of his enemy, and who had only one object in view, and
that to let Bill have a chance to get away. "My name is Henry
Wainwright. What if it is?"

"I have a warrant for your arrest, on the charge of arson. So, if you
are disposed to be reasonable, you'll come along with us quietly; if
not, I'll clap on the bracelets."

No attention was paid to Bill, who, finding himself unmolested, had let
his horse wander by the party, cropping the leaves from the bushes until
he was a few yards away, when