“Enough,� Roy ventured grimly. He was watching the rustler closely, ready to take advantage of any chance offered. But Froud did not relax his vigilance.
“What’s his name, this bird in the—er—striped shirt?â€� the former cowboy from the X Bar X demanded.
“I don’t know his name, but I know him!� the boy exclaimed. “And I know he’s one of your gang, too!�
“So you don’t know his name, hey?â€� Froud appeared relieved. “Well, he’s no friend o’ mine. He travels with a different outfit than what I do. Here—â€�
Froud suddenly peered out from the trees. The next moment he jammed the gun into Roy’s ribs.
“You make a sound an’ I’ll drill you sure!� he whispered fiercely.
Cautiously, Roy turned his head. Not fifty feet away was his brother Teddy, riding slowly along past the grove.
“Quiet!� Froud ordered softly between set teeth. “If you want to see how two ounces of lead feels between yore ribs, just yell! By golly, I’ll blow yore liver right out o’ you!�
Roy recognized the desperate ring in the rustler’s voice and knew that the least move on his part would result in his death. Froud was seized with a sort of panic, and at the slightest sign from Teddy that the latter knew of his brother’s plight, the rascal would start shooting.
As Roy saw his brother pass out of sight, he felt the pressure of the gun at his side relax, and Froud unconsciously sighed with relief.