But before he could do this, he was caught from behind and his rifle was wrenched from his grasp.
"Fetter!" he ejaculated, as he caught sight of the desperado.
"Up with your hands, Captain Moore!" growled the rascal savagely. "Up, I say! I've got the drop on you!"
Fetter had thrown the captain's rifle to the ground, and now stood upon it. In his hands he held his own weapon, and the muzzle was aimed at the young officer's head.
Realizing that discretion was the better part of valor, Captain Moore threw up his hands promptly, at which the desperado grinned wickedly.
"Where did you come from, Fetter?" demanded the captain.
"From not far away, captain."
"What do you mean by treating a United States army officer in this fashion?"
"I've got a score to settle with you, captain. Don't forget that."
"Are the rest of the gang around?"
"They are."
Following his last words, Gus Fetter gave a long, clear whistle, followed by two shorter ones. At once an answer came back from the woods, and in a few seconds Matt Gilroy appeared.
