g Dog in camp. He glanced around and would
have run, but the tramp was too quick for him and grabbed him by the
collar. "Oh, no you don't; hold on, sonny. I'll fix you so you'll do
as you're told." He cut the bowstring from its place, and violently
throwing Yan down, he tied his feet so that they had about eighteen
inches' play.

"Now rush around and get my dinner; I'm hungry. An' don't you spile it
in the cooking or I'll use the gad on you; an' if you holler or cut
that cord I'll kill ye. See that?" and he got out an ugly-looking
knife.

Tears of fear and pain ran down Yan's face as he limped about to obey
the brute's orders.

"Here, you move a little faster!" and the tramp turned from poking the
fire with the bow to give another sounding blow. If he had looked down
the trail he would have seen a small tow-topped figure that turned and
scurried away at the sound.

Yan was trained to bear punishment, but the tyrant seemed careless of
even his life.

"Are you going to kill me?" he burst out, after another attack for
stumbling in his shackles.

"Don't know but I will when I've got through with ye," replied the
desperado with brutal coolness. "I'll take some more o' that meat--an'
don't you let it burn, neither. Where's the sugar for the coffee? I'll
get a bigger club if ye don't look spry," and so the tramp was served
with his meal. "Now bring me some tobaccer."

Yan hobbled into the teepee and reached down Sam's tobacco bag.

"Here, what's that box? Bring that out here," and the tramp pointed to
the box in which they kept some spare clothes. Yan obeyed in fear and
trembling. "Open it."

"I can't. It's locked, and Sam has the key."

"He has, has he? Well, I have a key that will open it," and so he
smashed the lid with the axe; then he went through the pockets, got
Yan's old silver watch and chain, and in Sam's trousers pocket he got
two dollars.

"Ha! That's just what I want, sonny," and the tramp put them in his
own pockets. "'Pears to me the fire needs a little wood," he remarked,
as his eye fell on Yan's quiverful of arrows, and he gave that a kick
that sent many of them into the blaze.

"Now, sonny, don't look at me quite so hard, like you was taking
notes, or I may have to cut your throat and put you in the swamp hole
to keep ye from telling tales."

Yan was truly in terror of his life now.

"Bring me the whetstone," the tyrant growled, "an' some more coffee."
Yan did so. The tramp began whetting