“Say, Dick Darrell, brace up! Pull yourself together!” cried Tony. “Where’s Mudd and the gal?”
“Find out,” panted Dick. “I’m not telling. What have you done with my friend?”
“Oh, he’s gone back in the cave all right, I reckon,” chuckled Tony. “You’re a slick fighter, you are. See the black eye you have given my friend here? Never mind, though, you’ll be paid up for this.”
Dick was silent. There was no chance for any further struggles, for his hands had been tied behind him and he knew by the feeling that his revolver had been taken away.
“I guess Mudd is up to the hut all right, and the gal, too,” said Tony. “Hustle him along, boys. I’ll go ahead and make sure.”
Tony ran on and by the time Dick reached the hut Martin Mudd came out to meet him, with Tony by his side.
“Yes, that’s the right boy,” he said, glancing at Dick. “I knew you wouldn’t desert me, Tony. I shan’t forget this.”
“Well, you see I fell in with these here friends of mine,” said Tony. “Old cow punchers, every one on ’em. I was going down to Node Ranch for help, but thought I might as well come back and help you out when I met them.”
“Help me out still further by giving me a chance to talk to this boy,” said Mudd. “I’ve got something very important to say to him. With the girl stowed away in my place up in the loft the hut gives me just my chance.”
“And you want us to stay out—is that the idea?” asked Tony.