The base man saw that he was conquered, and that the eyes which flashed along the tube of the carbine were lurid with a baleful light. He had laughed at Velveteens when the story of his capture and escape was made known, and now he was in the same quandary.
“Shoot,” he said, fiercely. “I will not turn in my tracks to save my life, and am ready to die. Why do you hesitate?”
“I do not seek your life, Rafe Norris,” replied Myrtle. “I only protect myself from wrong, and that I will do, no matter what happens. If you had taken me to your camp I would have killed you with the first weapon I could reach.”
“I would have risked that,” was the reply. “But enough of this. I am conquered, and wish to know what you require of me.”
“You have come back voluntarily, and you must remain a prisoner. Go into that room behind you.”
“I will not.”
“Go in; it is the only way to save your life.”
At this moment the light of hope came into the eye of Rafe Norris. He had seen something which boded well for him.
“It is foolish to throw my life away,” he said, quietly. “Since you insist upon it and will take my life if I refuse, I will go as your prisoner. I could not ask for a fairer jailer.”
“Go in there; I have no time to waste in idle words.”