the fellow, shifting his rifle around
so that the barrel lay along his right leg, the muzzle pointing
straight at Ned. The latter was not greatly disturbed at this.
He did not think, for a moment, that the man would dare to shoot
him. Ned did not realize what a desperate character he was facing.

"I will answer what I choose. You can't make me answer any questions
that I don't want to," declared Rector defiantly.

"I reckon you'll change yer mind before I git done with you. Anybody
with you?"

"No, not exactly here," answered Ned quickly, a sudden line of conduct
occurring to him. "Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for you,
I am all alone. But when my friends do find out what has happened
you'd better look out. You'll be riddled so full of holes that the
wind will sigh through your body as if it were a sieve."

"How's Captain Billy?" demanded the man sharply.

"Captain Billy?" wondered Ned.

"Yes. You needn't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I most certainly do not. Who is Captain Billy?"

"Know Joe Withem?"

"I do not. Some friend of yours, I suppose?"

An angry exclamation escaped the lips of the mountaineer.

"I reckon they're no friends of mine. I reckon, too, that you'll be
answering my questions or you'll be hiking for the Happy Hunting
Grounds in about ten minutes from now. I haven't got all night to sit
here talking with you. I've got to git through with you; then I'm
going to finish the rest of your crowd. You fellows thought you'd play
a sharp trick on me, eh?"

"You are mistaken. We did not even know of your existence until you
began shooting at us. Why did you do that?"

"If you don't know, I reckon you'll have to guess. Bill McKay must
think we're easy down here, to try a game like that."

"I'll tell him when I see him," nodded Ned.

"I reckon you won't see him right smart. When I git through with you
I'm going to send a bullet through your head. Maybe they'll find you
here. If they do they'll know what it means, I reckon."

Ned's face paled slightly. There was that in the eyes of the man before
him which, all at once, told Ned Rector that the fellow meant what
he said.

"Who do you think we are?" demanded the boy earnestly.

"You're part of the Ranger gang."

"The what?"

"The gang known as the Texas Rangers."

Rector laughed.

"You've got it wrong this time. We are not Texas Rangers. We are
known as the Pony Riders and we are out fo