Sam pointed to the floor. "Down cellar."
"Dead?"
"No. We tied him up and left him there yesterday."
"What for?"
"We allowed we'd take his money and his horses. He sorter didn't take to the notion, so we put him away—"
"Wait a minute. Texas, go down cellar. Now go on. What next?"
"That's all."
"You lie!" roared Jesse striding forward and pressing his bowie against the fellow's throat. "You wanted those horses—what did you want them for? Quick!"
Jesse's keen mind had instinctively divined that the fellow had possessed some motive that he did not want to make known to them, and therefore, the desperado reasoned that this self-same information might prove useful to Jesse James.
"For to go to Silver City."