“There’s quite a crowd of ’em,” murmured Jerry.
“More’n enough to handle you—so be nice,” drawled the Parson. “If you’ve got a light, maybe you’d better show it, and we can get this business over with quicker. My fusee won’t burn forever.”
“I’ll light up,” said Jerry, moving to enter the tent again.
“And don’t light on a gun, whatever you do,” was the warning given in ominous tones.
For an instant Ned and Bob thought Jerry was about to put into execution some plan either to escape or to capture their captors. And they were disappointed when he came out with a portable electric lantern that gave good light.
“Now then, boys, give an account of yourselves!” sharply exclaimed the third man who had ridden up. He seemed to be in command, though his small size, in contrast to his companions, and his not very dignified appellation of Hinkee Dee, seemed hardly in keeping with his leadership.
“Why should we account to you?” demanded Jerry, sparring for time.
“Because I said to!” was the curt response.
“Huh! This is a free country!” broke in Ned. “Besides, we’re not in the habit of being ordered about by cattle thieves!”
The three men on their horses started and looked at one another.