By this time Harvey had managed to crawl from his place of concealment, and, at the expense of severe pain, raised himself to his feet directly in front of the prisoner.
"Keep your revolver where it is, and fire at the least show of resistance," he said to Jet, as he proceeded to search Joe's pockets.
"Now, lower your hands, but don't take a step forward," he said when the man's weapons and money had been thrown on the ground.
Joe obeyed sullenly, and Jet heard the dick of a pair of handcuffs as they were fastened on the former's wrists, with his arms behind his back.
"Now sit down," the detective said, as he gathered up two revolvers, an ugly looking dirk-knife and a well-filled pocket-book.
Joe obeyed in silence, but if a glance could have killed, his captors would soon have been lying lifeless before him.
"Hadn't we better take him into the thicket?" Jet asked.
"No. Stand in front of him while I write a note. Now, you must start for the town without delay."
"And take this fellow along?"
"Certainly; we can't afford to run the chances of a rescue."