very pocket with a skill
born of long experience. Dick's watch and money were taken from him,
and, at a sign from the leader, his coat and shoes were also added to the
loot.
"Now tie him and put him on one of the horses," said the captain, "and
we'll be off. There may be some more of these accursed Americanos near
by."
In a twinkling a lariat was dragged from the saddlehorn of the broncho,
and Dick's arms were roughly tied behind his back. The rope cut cruelly
into his flesh, but, with such an undaunted prisoner, they were
determined to take no chances. Then he was lifted to the saddle and his
feet tied beneath the horse. A bandit leaped up behind him and grasped
the reins with one hand, while he held Dick with the other. Not till he
was thus securely trussed and unable to move hand or foot, did the chief
lower the revolvers with which he had kept the prisoner covered. A sharp
command, a quick vaulting into the saddles, and the guerilla band was off
to its eyrie in the mountains.
Events had passed so rapidly that Dick's brain was in a whirl. It seemed
as though he were in a frightful dream from which he must presently
awake. Scarcely ten minutes had wrought this fearful change in his
fortunes. A quarter of an hour ago he was free, serene, apparently
master of himself and his fate. Now he was a captive, stripped of money
and goods, tied hand and foot, in the power of a desperate scoundrel,
while every step was carrying him further away from happiness and friends
and life.
For he did not disguise to himself that death probably yawned for him at
the journey's end. Whatever the whim that had saved his life so far, it
was unlikely to continue. He tried to figure out why the revolver had
not barked when it had him so surely at its mercy. It was absurd to
think that this human tiger had been deterred by any scruple. He was of
the type that revelled in blood, who like a wild beast lusted for the
kill. Perhaps he had not wanted to leave the evidence of his crime so
close to the victim's friends, whose fury might prompt to bloody revenge.
The noise of the shooting might have brought them like hornets about his
ears. Or did some idea of ransom, if it could be managed, appeal to his
avarice? Or, possibly, he might be held as a hostage to be exchanged for
some precious rascal now held by the enemy. In these last suppositions
there were some glimmerings of hope and Dick drew from them such comfort
as he mi
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