"You must have hit him an awful wallop," wondered Ned, standing over the man and eyeing him narrowly.
"I did. I hit him first with a stone, then with my fist. I skinned my knuckles, too."
Ned grunted.
"I'd hate to have you land on me that way. That surely was a sockdolager. He has his eyes open."
"Oh, hullo!" greeted Butler. "We rather turned the tables on you, didn't we?"
"I'll kill you for this!" growled the prisoner hoarsely.
"I don't think you will kill anybody to-night. What I would like to know is what you mean by trying to shoot us up."
"I'll shoot up the rest of you before I get through with you, you and your whole gang. You can tell Bill McKay what I say and—-"
"We don't know Bill McKay. We have nothing to do with any of you people down here. We are here for pleasure."
"That's what the other cayuse said. Looks like you wuz, hey?"