"Who," he asked, "are you?"
"If I wanted you to know, I'd take this mask off."
"Would I know yuh then?"
"I doubt it—I don't remember ever having seen you before tonight. Now listen to me, I'm letting you sit in the saddle so that you'll be more comfortable. I'm not going to gag you unless you start yelling. There are a few things I want to talk to you about, and you'll save yourself a lot of trouble if you'll answer my questions." While he spoke, the Lone Ranger connected Yuma's feet with a rope tied to each ankle and drawn beneath the belly of his horse.
"If you try to run away, I'll lasso you and you'll find yourself in a bad way, because you can't get out of the saddle."
"I ain't no damn fool," retorted Yuma in a sulky voice.
"Get going," said his captor.
Yuma heeled his horse obediently and started ahead. The Lone Ranger rode about ten feet behind, next to Tonto, whispering softly. Tonto frowned heavily at everything that was said, and tried several times to persuade the white man to relax for at least an hour and rest. The day and night thus far had been punishing for any man, and especially so for one who had still a great deal of his strength and endurance to regain.
"I'm going to ride into Red Oak," the Lone Ranger told Tonto, "and that's a good two hours in the saddle. I can doze on the way. Silver knows the trail back there."
Tonto countered with a comment, but the masked man explained that he was quite used to spending days and nights on end in the saddle, sleeping there quite easily. "And, anyway," he finished, "I think we're right on the verge of discovering who the leader of those outlaws is. Lonergan said it was the same man that Gimlet mentioned, but I don't think so."