tree. Anyway, you
were a fool to come back. Do you know what I am going to do with you?"

Ki Sing shook his head placidly.

"I am going to tie you hand and foot and roll you down hill. You'd
better have stayed where you were."

"No want loll down hillee," said the Chinaman, without, however,
betraying any fear.

"I sha'n't ask whether you like it or not. But stop! Perhaps you can
help us. Do you know where the gold-dust is?"

"Yes," answered Ki Sing.

Bill Mosely's face lighted up with pleasure. He thought he saw the way
out of his difficulty.

"That's the very thing!" he cried, turning to his partner--"eh, Tom?"

"I should say so, Bill."

"Just show us where it is, and we won't do you any harm."

"If my fliend, Dickee Dewee, tell me to, I will," said Ki Sing.

Dewey, thus appealed to, said, "No, Ki Sing; they only want to rob me,
and I am not willing to have you show them."

"You'd better shut up, Dewey," said Mosely, insolently; "you're a dead
duck, and you're only gettin' this foolish heathen into trouble. We've
got tired of waitin' 'round here, and--"

"I am ready to excuse you any time," said Dewey. "Don't stay on my
account, I beg. In fact, the sooner you leave the better it will please
me."

Bill Mosely, who didn't fancy Dewey's sarcasm, frowned fiercely and
turned again to Ki Sing. "Will you show us or not?" he demanded.

"Velly solly," said Ki Sing, with a childish smile, "but Dickee Dewee
won't let me."

With an oath Mosely sprang to the doorway and tried to clutch the
Chinaman, when the latter slid to one side and Jake Bradley confronted
him.

"You'd better begin with me, Bill Mosely," he said.

CHAPTER IX.

BRADLEY'S SIGNAL VICTORY.

Bill Mosely started back as if he had seen a rattlesnake, and stared at
Jake Bradley in mingled surprise and dismay.

"You didn't expect to see me, I reckon?" said Bradley, dryly.

Mosely still stared at him, uncertain what to say or what to do.

"I take it very kind of you to bring back the hosses you borrowed a few
weeks since. You took 'em rather sudden, without askin' leave; it was a
kind of oversight on your part."

"I don't know what you mean," answered Mosely, determined to brazen it
out and keep the horses if possible, for he was lazy and a pedestrian
tramp would not have suited him very well.

"You know what I mean well enough, Bill Mosely. If you don't, them
mustangs outside may refresh your recollection. They look kinder fagge