“Will you go quietly,” said the Inspector, “or must we knock you on the head?” He raised his pistol over the Indian as he spoke.
“I go,” grunted the Indian solemnly.
“Come, then,” said the Inspector, “we'll give you one chance more. Where's your friend?” he added, looking about him. But Raven was gone.
“I am just as glad,” said Cameron, remembering Raven's declaration of allegiance a few moments before. “He wasn't too bad a chap after all. We have this devil anyhow.”
“Quick, now,” said the Inspector. “We have not a moment to lose. This is an important capture. How the deuce we are to get him to the Fort I don't know.”
Through the bushes they hurried their prisoner, threatening him with their guns. When they came to their horses they were amazed to find Little Thunder's pony beside their own and on the Inspector's saddle a slip of paper upon which in the fading light they found inscribed “One good turn deserves another. With Mr. Raven's compliments.”
“By Jove, he's a trump!” said the Inspector. “I'd like to get him, but all the same—”
And so they rode off to the Fort.