"Sorry, but I don't think so. In the drawer in my desk, Bob, you'll find a pair of handcuffs. Get 'em, will you?"
Bob hastened to obey and, at Jeb's order, snapped them over the wrists of the angry man.
"This here's the worst job yer ever did fer yerself, Jeb."
"May be it is but, in this world we have to do what seems best at the time and, much as it goes against the grain, it sure seems the proper caper just now. Jack, run down to the shack and tell a couple of the boys I want 'em, will you? Get Slats and Slim if you can."
"Boys," Jeb said a few minutes as Slim, Slats and Jack came up, "I have reason to feel sure that this man's a spy and a member of Hains' gang of rustlers."
"You sure, Boss?" Slim looked his incredulity.
"I'm dead certain." And he told them the evidence against him.
"It's all wrong," Los insisted but they paid no attention to him.
"Now what yer know 'bout that?" Slim turned to Slats who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Guess then the only thing ter do is to swing him," he suggested.
"No, boys, we won't hang him though I've no doubt he richly deserves it. Take him out to the barn and lock him up in one of the box stalls. They're good and strong and, with these bracelets on, I reckon he'll stay put."