gns on me."

The words of the Texan acted like a damper on the ardor of his
companions, who were eager to hasten to the rescue of their captain. Had
they not known that he was wounded, it is likely they would have
insisted upon an instant and vigorous pursuit; but none failed to see
the truth of Gleeson's utterances, though it was only a few minutes
before that he was as impatient as any of them.

"Boys," said he, observing that they were looking at him, "I think you
know what all this means as well as I do. If we had 'em out on the
plains where there was a fair chance, or if the cap could put in some
licks for himself, it would be different; but they're among them hills
over there; they're watching us now; we can't make a move that they
won't know it the minute it's started; they've got it on us, and just as
soon as they see there's any show of losing the cap they'll finish
him."

"Ballyhoo is right," remarked Wynwood, commonly known as Madstone;
"they've got us foul."

"That being so, there aint any use for you, pards; so go back to camp,
look after the cattle, and leave things to me."

The meaning of this proposition, which may sound strange to the reader,
was that the only possible way of saving Captain Shirril was by
negotiating for his release. The fact that the Comanches knew he was in
charge of two thousand cattle, and had made him prisoner instead of
slaying him, established this truth in the minds of Oscar Gleeson and
his comrades.

Furthermore, the Texan was confirmed in his belief that the act of
Shackaye in joining the company before the start was the first step in
an elaborate plot. It was his province to win the confidence of the
captain, and to communicate, in the many secret ways so well understood
by his people, with the Comanches, and to help when the time came for
the important movement.

His absence at the critical period gave color to this theory.
Circumstances had helped the treacherous red men, for it was as if
Captain Shirril walked directly into the trap set by them.

It was a brave act on Gleeson's part to venture alone among the hills in
the hope of opening communication with the red men, when, if there was
any mistake, he would be completely at their mercy. But he had uttered
his decision with the air and manner of one who would brook no dispute.
He waved his friends off, and, wheeling about, they rode in the
direction of the camp, frequently looking back at the daring fellow who