“It’s only me; an’ ther dandy card sharp says as how he wants yer at ther hall ter chip in a leetle game,” said Old Negotiate in an innocent tone.
“Tell him I have gone to bed and am not well.”
“I’ll tell him, but he’s got a prime chip in fer yer,” urged the teamster.
“All right, I will come.”
With a muttered oath at having to dress and retrace his way half a mile to the gambling hall, the man arose and began to put on his clothes.
Presently the heavy bar was removed from the door, the key was heard to turn in the lock, and a head was thrust out carefully, the eyes narrowly searching the surroundings.
As if assured of no lurking danger, the man stepped out, and turning, locked the door, just as two dark forms bounded around the corners of the cabin, and he was seized in a grasp he could not shake off.
In vain did he strive to beat off his assailants and to draw his weapons; he was held in the clutch of Seven-foot Harry and Ben Tabor.
Seeing around him half a dozen more, while the cold muzzle of a pistol pressed against his temple, he ceased resistance, and said, in surly tones:
“Well, who are you, and what do you want with me?”