able the last
moments of a captive. He knew that unless he silenced Terrill his life
must pay the forfeit. Death was the penalty of detection. The arm of
the express company was long. Ultimate capture was certain. Pursued
out of Arizona by the sheriff, he would be trailed through every camp
and town in the far West.

With an oath, Terrill tried to rise and face his antagonist, reaching
for his revolver as he did so. The butt of his weapon had caught in
the arm of the chair hampering his movements.

McKee threw him roughly back into the chair.

"Throw up your han's," he cried. "Don't try that."

Up went Terrill's hands high over his head. He faced the open window.
Not a sign of help was in sight.

Quickly the agent turned over in his mind various schemes to foil
McKee, who now stood behind him with the muzzle of his revolver
pressing into the middle of his back. Each was rejected before
half-conceived.

McKee laughed sneeringly, saying: "You oughtn't to be so keerless to
show where you cache your roll. Worse than a senorita with a stocking.
She never keeps a whole pair when Manuel is playing faro."

Terrill made no reply. His hope of escape was slowly fading.

McKee had reached his left hand over his prisoner's shoulder to disarm
Terrill, who moved slightly away from him, drawing in his feet as he
did so.

One chance had come to him. He knew that, if he failed, death was
certain, yet he determined to take the risk in order to retrieve the
slip he had made in admitting that he had money in his possession to a
gambling crony; and so to keep clean his record for trustiness, of
which he was so proud. This last desperate resource was an old
wrestler's trick; one with which he had conquered others in the rough
games of the corral.

Again Terrill moved to the right and farther under McKee, who had to
extend his arm and body far beyond an upright position. Holding his
revolver against Terrill handicapped the half-breed in his movements.

With a quick turn, Terrill grasped McKee's left arm, jerking it down
sharply on his shoulder. With his right hand he grasped the back of
his antagonist's neck, pulling his head downward and inward. Using his
shoulder for a fulcrum, with a mighty heave of his legs and back he
sought to toss McKee over his head.

So surprised for an instant was the cowboy by suddenness of the attack
that he made no effort escape the clutches of the desperate
express-agent.

His fee