"Who be you?"
"Don't you know me? Ha, ha, ha! Well, I do not wonder. I'll look different when I peel this mustache and wash off my make-up. I have her! See here, boys!"
The blanket was flung back, and the face of Lona Dawson, the banker's daughter, was revealed!
The girl was not unconscious, and she suddenly squirmed from the grasp of her captor, slipped from the horse, and ran into the midst of the outlaws, crying:
"Save me! Protect me!"
"Stop her, boys!" laughed the youth on the horse. "Don't let her get away. I've had trouble enough, and taken risk enough to get her."
"Wa-al, who be you?" roared one of the band.
"Who am I? Look here; do you know this sign?"
He made a swift motion with his hand, and nearly every man cried:
"The chief's sign! But you are not the chief! He is here with us! You are an impostor!"