to the ranch. Bill, you and Shot will occupy the back seat with Mr. Boyd between you. I don't need to tell you what to do. The rest of us will be over by to-morrow evening or next day sometime. We've got to get things moving at this end. I suppose you got a fresh team, José, and some grub?"
"Sure," replied the Mexican.
"All right, you're off. See you later."
No one spoke. Boyd at a signal mounted to the back seat in the buckboard, which presently drove off.
"If you're going to abduct, nothing like having a sensible man to abduct," observed Corbell.
"No trouble, eh?" asked Frank.
"Not a bit. At first he thought we were drunk. Then, when he saw we were in earnest he came along like a lamb."
"Yellow, you think?"
"Not a little bit. Just cool and sensible. I'll bet he's doing a lot of wondering. Well, let's get back to the hotel and see what wires Ken has sent."
"Hold on," interposed Carlson, "what am I to do with this?"
"Hullo, who you got there?" cried Frank.
"Sing Toy; the Colonel's chink; sneaking around with a gun. Oh Lord! I forgot all about him! And he saw it all! We've got to keep him quiet. Bring him along."
IX
They returned to their old gathering place, the little room back of the Fremont bar, Sing Toy paddling contentedly alongside. He seated himself on the edge of a chair, tucked his feet demurely underneath it, and proceeded at once to cross-question his captors.
"What you do with dat man?" he demanded.
"What you do with that gun?" countered Corbell.
"Dat allee light," Sing Toy brushed this minor detail aside. "I wan' know what you do with dat man?"
"Look here, Sing Toy," said Corbell, earnestly. "We no hurt him. We take him across the mountain, keep him one week, two week, bring him back."
