"I don't know 'm. Guess they're tender-foots—some former enemies of his, without doubt. They propose to quiz a secret about some girl out of him, and then knife him. We'll have to hurry or they'll get their work in ahead of us."
They left the mouth of the mine, and skurried down into the valley, through the dense shroud of gloom.
Calamity Jane led the way; she was both fleet of foot and cautious.
Let us look down on the foot-hill camp, and the two Fillmores who are stationed on either side of their prisoner.
The younger presses the muzzle of his revolver against Deadwood Dick's heart; the elder holds a long gleaming knife upheld in his right hand.
"One!" he counts, savagely.
"Two!"—after a momentary pause. Another lapse of time, and then—
"Hold! gentlemen; that will do!" cries a clear ringing voice; and Calamity Jane and McKenzie, stepping out of the darkness, with four gleaming "sixes" in hand, confirm the pleasant assertion!