He thus was rendered perfectly helpless.
When he recovered from the effect of the blow, he found himself at the mercy of the gang, unable to move or speak, and tied up to the old-fashioned bed post.
"Fool," said Jesse, standing before him, and bending a burning glance upon him of mingled hate and rage. "Are you soft enough to imagine you can get away with all of us single handed?"
Timberlake did not reply of course.
But the look of intense fury he bestowed upon Jesse, amply evinced all that was passing in his mind.
"We are going to leave you here," preceded the king of the bandits, "and we are going back to Clay County. I'd like to blow your head off before we go, but that would run my bead in the hangman's noose. If you are unlucky enough to stumble across my path again, though, I shall be less merciful. I'd wipe you out as I would a viper."
Gagged as he was, Timberlake remained silent.
"Come, boys, let us begone," said Jesse turning to his companions. "We barely have time to catch the train."
They filed out of the room, and Jesse locked the door, carried the key away, and they left the hotel.
Making speed, they quickly reached the railroad depot.