A gleam of cunning came into the man's eye. "Go ahead," he acquiesced, pointing toward the stairs. Then he went to the doorway again and said a few words to his fellow bandits in the same strange language he had used before.
Jack led the way up the rickety staircase, and, seemingly unconscious of the fact, went toward the extreme rear of the house. Without obvious haste he stepped into the rearmost room, and the leader of the band followed.
He was unprepared for what followed. With the speed of lightning he found his gun hand in one iron grip, while another was choking the breath out of him. Powerful as he was, he found himself helpless against the almost superhuman strength of the young giant he had sought to trap.
Slowly, surely, with irresistible force, Jack pushed him back, step by step, toward where a great bundle of old clothing and rags was piled into a corner. When he had got the fellow almost directly over this, he even more tightly gripped his throat, while at the same time keeping him in a position where he could not strike with his left hand, and then commanded, "Drop that gun!"
The man merely writhed in a fast weakening effort to free himself. Already his face was turning gray and his eyes were bulging.
"Drop that gun or you never leave this room alive," Jack breathed into his ear again.
The fellow twitched frantically, evidently measured the determination written upon Jack's face, and with what would have been a groan could he have made a really audible sound, he dropped the revolver so that it fell noiselessly upon the bundle of rags.
For several seconds more Jack held the other man in his killing grip, and then, just when he was about to lose consciousness, he released him, at the same time grabbing up the gun and placing it at the bandit's temple.
The fellow dropped weak and limp upon the heap of débris. Jack glanced about the room and could have shouted with joy. Several yards of rope with which the gang undoubtedly had intended to tie their prisoners lay coiled up in an opposite corner. He procured it, keeping the man covered at every second, and then approached him.
"Roll over on your stomach," he commanded. The man did as he was ordered. Hastily Jack felt all his pockets for trace of another weapon. Finding none, he commanded the man to roll over on his back, first having placed a part of the rope where his body would come. Working with one hand, the menacing pistol in the other, Jack then, with a few quick twists and knots, tied the fellow fast.