"Fer heaven's sake!" he gasped. "What does this mean? What d'ye want?"
"Throw up your hands," came the stern command. "There, that's better. Now look here, Bill," and the speaker took a step closer. "Where's that kid you pinched from Big Glen?"
"K-kid! What kid?"
"Look, none of that. You can't fool with us. We've come too far to listen to nonsense. So out with it at once."
The squaw man was in a trap, and he knew that to parley was useless.
"He's down river," he muttered. "I don't know whar he is now."
"But ye do know. Ye sent 'im, an' if ye don't cough up at once we'll leave your d— carcass here on the floor in the twinkling of an eye. D'ye hear?"
Siwash Bill heard, and shaking with fear told briefly what he knew.
Muttered oaths and agitated movements greeted this contemptible story. The speaker lifted his hand for silence.
"You mean, cowardly sneak," he cried, turning to the prisoner. "You deserve to be tied to a stake and tortured to death. The men here are just in the right mood for such a job, too. They left their claims, tramped the whole distance to Hishu, and are hungry enough to be mad for action."