still disagreeable after her experience with the hornets,
held straight for the cliff.

The moon shone full on it, and when he was only thirty feet up its face
Tish fired again, and the fugitive stopped.

"Come down," said Tish quietly.

He said a great many things which, like his earlier language, I do not
care to repeat. But after a second shot he began to descend slowly.

Tish, however, approached him warily, having given her revolver to me.

"He might try to get it from me, Lizzie," she observed. "Keep it pointed
in our direction, but not at us. I'm going to tie him again."

This she proceeded to do, tying his hands behind him and fastening his
belt also to the horn of the saddle, but leaving his feet free. All this
was done to the accompaniment of bitter vituperation. She pretended to
ignore this, but it made an impression evidently, for at last she
replied.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," she said. "You deserve your
present humiliating position, and you know it. I've made up my mind to
take you all in and expose your cruel scheme, and I intend to do it. I'm
nothing if I am not thorough," she finished.

He made no reply to this, and, in fact, he made only one speech on the
way back, and that, I am happy to say, was without profanity.

"It isn't being taken in that I mind so much," he said pathetically.
"It's all in the game, and I can stand up as well under trouble as any
one. It's being led in by a crowd of women that makes it painful."

I have neglected to say that Tish was leading Mona Lisa, while I
followed with the revolver.

It was not far from dawn when we reached the camp again. Aggie was as we
had left her, but in the light of the dying fire she looked older and
much worn. As a matter of fact, it was some weeks before she looked like
her old self.

The girl was sitting where we had left her, and sulkier than ever. She
had turned her back to Mr. Oliver, and Aggie said afterward that the way
they had quarreled had been something terrible.

Aggie said she had tried to make conversation with the girl, and had,
indeed, told her of Mr. Wiggins and her own blasted life. But she had
remained singularly unresponsive.

The return of our new prisoner was greeted by the other men with brutal
rage, except Mr. Oliver, who merely glanced at him and then went back to
his staring at the fire. It appeared that they had been counting on him
to get assistance, and his capture destroyed their last ho