"True; I forgot. Go get something and then come up. We may need you;" and then, as the borderer hastened down the hill, the young man turned to the captive.
He was in a truly pitiable condition; but those who beheld him had been far too deeply injured by him to indulge in any such feeling. True, they gave him brandy and bathed his head, but it was only to restore him so that they could gain his confession.
He soon revived and stared around at the two men, Sprowl having taken a position out of sight behind the tree, where he had not yet been seen by Meagreson. The men eyed him in silence, but he only vouchsafed them a look of angry defiance.
"Well, James Meagreson," at length said the outlaw leader, "we meet once again!"
"My name is not Meagreson, and I don't know you—never set eyes on you before," sullenly responded the captive.
"Do you know me, then?" put in Poynter.
"Know you? Yes; for a vile horse-thief and counterfeiter!"
"Do you mean to say—" began Crees, when he was interrupted by the other.
"I mean to say that I am plain John Dement, an honest trader, and that you shall dearly rue this outrage."
"Bah! that's played out. You may as well own up now, for your accomplice and tool has betrayed you; has exposed all your plots and crimes. If you are obstinate, we will just hand you over to the vigilance committee, whose aid you are so fond of invoking, and let them deal with you."