There was no time to dodge. One of the riflemen below received the impact of the descending weapon squarely on top of his head and he keeled over, falling into a bush.
"You said all you wanted was my revolver," announced Sergeant Hal. "Well, you have it. Now on your way with it."
The dropped revolver had been picked up by another of the crowd, and now two men raised their guns to shoot Hal Overton out of the tree.
But their leader struck down their guns.
"None of that, unless we have to," he commanded. "The sergeant's a game one, and he's not to blame for trying to defend his camp. He can't do any more harm now, and I won't have him hurt unless he forces us to do it. Now, then, young man, are you coming down out of that tree?"
"Why?" challenged Hal. "You said that all you wanted was my revolver. You have that now, and all the rifles in camp. What do you need of me?"
"We've got to slip away from here quick," retorted the leader with a deceptive show of good-nature and fair-mindedness. "But do you think, Sergeant, we're going to be fools enough to dust out of here and leave you to come down out of the tree and trail us along, then come back here for help and bag us all. No, no, young man! We know the regulars, and we're not going to leave any cards in the hands of the fighting line of the Army."
"But it's so comfortable up here," objected Hal.
"I'm going to give you, Sergeant, until I count three. Then, if you haven't started, we'll simply have to bring you down like a cantankerous grizzly. Or, if you start and then stop again, we'll shoot just the same. We can't afford to waste any more time talking."
Where had Hal seen this man before? Where and when had he heard that voice?