und as he
tried to mount. Washburn caught one of his legs and lifted him on his
horse.

Westerfelt spurred the horse furiously, but the animal plunged,
stumbled, and came to his knees--the bridle-rein had caught his foot.
The foremost of the gang was now within twenty yards of him.

"Halt thar!" he yelled.

Westerfelt drew his horse up and continued to lash him with his
bridle-rein.

"Shoot his hoss, but don't tetch him!" was the next command.

Several revolvers went off. Westerfelt's horse swayed at the rump and
then ran sideways across the street and fell against a rail fence.
Westerfelt alighted on his feet. He turned and drew his revolver, but
just then his horse rolled over against his legs and knocked the weapon
from his hand. It struck the belly of the horse and bounded into the
middle of the street.

"Ha, we've got ye!" jeered the leader, as he and two or three others
covered Westerfelt with their revolvers.

Chapter XIII

The gang formed a semi-circle round Westerfelt and his horse. In their
white caps and sheets they appeared ghostly and hideous, as they looked
down at him through the eye-holes of their masks. One of them held a
coil of new rope and tantalizingly swung it back and forth before his
face.

"You must go with us up the Hawkbill fer a little moonlight picnic," he
jeered. "We've picked out a tree up thar that leans spank over a cliff
five hundred feet from the bottom. Ef the rope broke, ur yore noggin
slipped through the noose, you'd never know how come you so."

"He's got to have some'n to ride," suggested another muffled voice; "we
have done his horse up."

"Well, he's got a-plenty, an' he won't need 'em atter our ja'nt,"
jested the man with the rope. "You uns back thar, that hain't doin'
nothin' but lookin' purty, go in the stable and trot out some'n fer 'im
to ride; doggoned ef I want 'im straddled behind me. His ha'nt 'ud
ride with me every time I passed over the Hawkbill."

"Bill Washburn's in thar," said a man in the edge of the crowd. "I
seed 'im run in as we rid up."

The leader, who sat on a restive horse near Westerfelt, called out:

"Hello in thar, Bill Washburn; git out some'n to put yore man on.
Hurry up, ur we'll take you along to see the fun."

Washburn opened the office door and came out slowly.

"What do _you_ say, Mr. Westerfelt? It's yore property. I won't move
a peg agin the man that I work fer ef eve'y dam Whitecap in Christendom
orders