"Dat ees right," declared Laguerre, staring fixedly at the range-boss. "Only you un Rudd was here. I see nobody else."
"You hear, Marvin," Loudon said, grimly. "Now stick yore hands behind yore back. I'm goin' to tie 'em up."
"Yo're too slippery to take chances on," retorted Loudon. "Seen the sheriff lately?"
"Yo're a cheerful liar. Still it don't matter much. He'll be gathered in with the rest o' you murderers when the time comes. They say hangin's an easy death--like drownin'. Djever think of it, Marvin?"
That luckless wight swore again. Black gloom rode his soul.
The three plodded up the slope of the ridge. When Loudon's head rose above the crest he saw to his intense disgust that six horsemen were picturesquely grouped about Brown Jug and the gray. The six were staring in various directions. Two were gazing directly at the three on the ridge. Loudon and Laguerre, forgetting their charge for the moment, flung themselves down.
Promptly the six men tumbled out of their saddles and began to work their Winchesters. Loudon, aiming with care, sent an accurate bullet through a man's leg. Laguerre dropped a horse.
Then Loudon, mindful of the prisoner, looked over his shoulder. Marvin, running like a frightened goat, was half-way to the shelter of the sumacs.
"Blow ---- out of 'em, Telescope!" cried Loudon. "I got to get Marvin!"
He rolled a few yards down the slope and knelt on one knee. He dropped two bullets in quick succession in front of Marvin's flying feet.
"C'mon back!" he shouted. "The next one goes plumb centre!"
Marvin halted. He returned slowly. Loudon, watching him, became aware that Laguerre's rifle was silent. He glanced quickly around. Laguerre, with his skinning-knife, was picking frantically at a jammed cartridge. At his feet lay Marvin's rifle, the lever half down, and the bullet end of a cartridge protruding from the breech. Both rifles had jammed at the crucial moment.
"Take mine," said Loudon, and tossed his rifle to Laguerre. "'Tsall right, Marvin," he continued in a shout, "Keep a-comin'. I can reach yuh with a Colt! What yuh cussin' about, Telescope? Mine jam, too?"
"Dem feller pull out," growled Laguerre. "While I was try for feex my Winchestair dey spleet un go two way. Dey behin' de nex' heel now. Dey tak' our pony too, ---- 'em."