operty and mine, particularly when it comes to hosses. It is an
unfortunate little peculiarity of yours that will bring your life to an
untimely end some of these days. If you should ever reform and set up as
respectable men, I might be willin' to know you, but there's about as
much chance of that, accordin' to my reckonin', as of water runnin' up
hill."

While he was expressing himself thus he was cutting the cords of his
prisoners, and they took the first chance to stretch their cramped
limbs.

"Feel better, don't you?" asked Bradley, smiling.

"I should say so," answered Hadley.

"Couldn't you give us something to eat?" asked Mosely; "I haven't eaten
a mouthful since yesterday noon, and I feel faint."

"Ki Sing," said Bradley, "bring out some victuals. These men are not
particular friends of mine, but we won't send them away hungry. I've
known what it is to fast for thirty-six hours at a stretch, and I
understand how it feels."

Ki Sing brought out some cold meat and other plain food, which the two
adventurers ate as if they were famished. Their long fast and exposure
during the night had sharpened their appetites and lent a keener zest to
their enjoyment of the meal.

When they had finished Jake Bradley pointed down the mountain. "You've
had your breakfast," he said, "and now there is only one thing more. I
want to see you travel."

Bill Mosely looked askance at the two mustangs, which were tied only a
few rods off.

Jake Bradley caught the direction of his glance. "It's no go, my
friend," he said. "You don't borrow our mustangs this time. We shall
have occasion to use them ourselves. It won't do you any harm to try
your own legs for a while."

Bill Mosely wasn't easily abashed. He was lazy, and the prospect of
tramping all day was by no means agreeable to him. Thanks to his last
robbery, he and his companion were tolerably well supplied with
gold-dust, which was a common circulating medium in California at that
time. An idea struck him, which he lost no time in carrying out. "What
value do you set on them horses?" he asked.

"What makes you ask?" inquired Jake Bradley, with some curiosity.

"We'll buy 'em if you'll take a fair price."

"Buy our mustangs! Have you got the money?"

"We've got gold-dust."

"Where did you get it? I'll warrant you didn't work for it."

"That's our business," answered Mosely, stiffly. "The question is, Do
you want to sell?"

"No, I don't; and if I did I should want