"You can't blame a feller fer standin' by his mate," was the sullen yet deprecatory reply.
"I can blame any man, and arrest or shoot him too, who obstructs the law. You must obey me for the next half-hour, to prove that you are not Bute's accomplice."
"He's only my mate, and our rule is ter stand by each other; but, as you say, I can't help myself, and there's no use of my goin' ter jail."
"I should think not," added Brandt, appealing to the fellow's selfish hope of escaping further trouble if Bute was taken. "Now get my prisoner out of bed and dress him as soon as possible."
"But he ain't able ter be moved. The superintendent said he wasn't."
"That's my business, not yours. Do as I bid you."
"Why don't yer yell fer help?" said Bute, in a hoarse whisper.
"Because he knows I'd shoot him if he did," remarked Brandt, coolly.
"Come, old man," said Jack, "luck's agin yer. Ef there's any hollerin' ter be done, yer's as able ter do that as I be."
"Quick, quick! jerk him out of bed and get him into his clothes. I won't permit one false move."