ng had
been said, or done to him, that had given him satisfaction! I was
further surprised at perceiving that he had a gun in his hands--his own
rifle--and that he was in the act of loading the piece! My surprise
changed to indignation as I saw him step forward to the line, and stand
facing me--evidently with the intention to fire! "Cowardly traitor! he
has accepted life upon some base condition. Jeph Bigelow! Sure-shot!
whom I thought true as steel! I would not have believed it." Such was
the reflection, to which my gag prevented me from giving utterance. In
reality, I felt astonished at the behaviour of the old ranger. I
believed him a better man; but the dread of death is a powerful test to
apply to the human soul; and hard must be the conditions of life when,
under such circumstances, they are refused. Sure-shot had succumbed to
the temptation.

Such was my belief, as I saw him raise his piece, and stand confronting
me--in an attitude that too plainly bespoke his intention. Another
surprise awaited me--another stimulus to my indignation. Instead of
looking ashamed of his work, and cowering under my glance, he appeared
eager and determined to execute the dastardly design. There was even an
expression of fierceness, ill becoming his countenance habitually meek.
Under other circumstances, it would have been ludicrous enough.
"Bravado," thought I, "assumed, no doubt, to give satisfaction to his
new allies?"

I had not recovered from the confusion of my surprise, when his voice
fell upon my ear--uttered in a tone of anger, and accompanied with
corresponding gestures. But the words that reached me explained all.
On hearing them, I no longer suspected the loyalty of my old comrade.
The angry expression _was_ assumed; but the counterfeit had a design,
far different from that which I had attributed to it. It was Sure-shot
himself--still tricky as true.

"Capting!" cried he, speaking quickly, and raising his gun with a
gesture of menace, "pay 'tention to whet I'm 'beout to say. Look
savagerous at me, an' make these yeer verming b'lieve you an' me's
que'lling. Fo'most tell me, ef they've krippled ye 'beout the legs? I
know ye can't speak; but shet yeer eyes, an' thet says `No.'"

I was for the moment puzzled, by the matter as well as manner of his
speech, which in no way corresponded. In an instant, however, I
perceived that he had some design; and I hastened to obey his hurried
instructions. As to the