"What's the good of that?" demanded Tommy.
"That's our business," replied the outlaw.
"We'll never mention you to our crowd," George added.
"Anyway," the outlaw insisted, "it's safer for us to keep track of you two kids. I'd rather have a dozen Chicago sleuths after me than three or four husky little Boy Scouts."
"Say," Tommy asked with a grin, "do you remember those plays where a shrinking maiden would be in the center of the stage one minute and be grabbed by the villain the next, and be grabbed back by the hero in the next, and be grabbed back by the villain in the next, and be grabbed back by the hero for the final curtain?"
"I remember something like that," said the outlaw with a laugh.
"That's us!" grinned Tommy. "That's George and me! We're here to be captured by cowboys, and bum detectives, and bearded train robbers, and I don't know what form our imprisonment will take next."
"When we get back to Chicago," George went on, whimsically, "we're going to write up a story of our capture by two bold, bad men who gave their names as Red Mike of the Gulch and Daring Dan of the Devil's Dip or something like that."
"Say," Tommy cut in, "when you called those names out of the darkness you certainly did have those detectives buffaloed!"
"You're a pair of nervy kids, anyway," laughed the outlaw.