Dick, preparing to shout out to awaken them, checked himself in time. A cold sweat broke out upon his body. An obstacle had presented itself. When he aroused Burnnel and Emery, he would awaken the woman too, and he was too far away from MacGregor’s wife to prevent her escape. Or, what would be more disconcerting or fatal still, she might suddenly determine to come to the outlaws’ rescue. No doubt she was armed. Dick’s heart beat wildly against his ribs and a lump rose in his throat, choking him. What was he going to do?
He considered waking the woman first, being as quiet as possible, then coming back for the two prospectors. But he dismissed this idea almost as quickly as it had come. Better, far better to start with the outlaws. He dismissed his original plan of shouting out. That would never do. No; he would prod them quietly with his foot until they woke up.
A distance of several feet separated the two sleepers. He stepped between them. Burnnel lay flat on his back. Dick stooped over and jerked the big prospector’s gun from its holster, expecting of course, that the man would awake. To his surprise Burnnel slept on. So he turned his attention to Emery.
Dick now had a gun in either hand. It gave him more confidence. Emery stirred, as he prodded him with his foot. He continued until the wiry little man sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“A word out of you,” said Dick softly, “and I’ll blow your brains out. Hand over your gun, butt forward.”
Emery obeyed. Dick thrust the revolver in his own holster, an awkward proceeding because he was compelled to keep his opponent covered.
“Now,” said Dick, “wake up Burnnel and do it quietly. Get busy!”
Emery, who evidently was thoroughly frightened, rolled over and shook his partner. The big fellow half-awoke, perceived who was shaking him, thrust out one huge arm petulantly and pushed the little man back with considerable violence.
“Shoot me or not,” snarled Emery, “yuh kin wake him yourself.”
“Wake him up!” Dick’s voice carried a menace.