"The gang known as the Texas Rangers."
Rector laughed.
"You've got it wrong this time. We are not Texas Rangers. We are known as the Pony Riders and we are out for our health and as good a time as we can have."
"Ye can't fool me. That line of talk don't go down at all I'll tell you what. Bill McKay thought to trap some folks by getting in a bunch that wasn't known down in these parts. I had his little game sized up the minute I set eyes on your bunch. But I'll clip your claws. I'll show McKay that we ain't so easy. Now you out with the whole story. If you tell it straight, I may think about letting you go. If you lie it's the end of you. I'd as lief shoot you full of holes as I would a yellow dog. Now what's your orders?"
"I haven't any orders, I tell you."
"What did Bill McKay reckon you would do down here?"
"I don't know Bill McKay, I don't know any Texas Rangers, and if they are anything like you and your kind, I don't want to know them. But I do want to tell you that if you don't let me go—-that if you heap any more insults on me—-it is you who will get a bullet through your miserable hide. I'm getting mad, Mr. Man."
"Oho! Ye be, eh?"
"Yes, I am."
"Then I reckon there's only one thing to do to put ye in a better frame of mind," answered the mountaineer, shifting his rifle about suggestively. "Now I'll give ye two minutes to open up and tell all ye know," was the stern announcement.