As Lablache was hoisted from the buckboard and set upon his feet, and the gag was removed from his mouth, the first thing he noticed was the absolute quiescence of the place. He wondered if his foreman and the hands were yet sleeping.
He was not long left in doubt. Retief gave a few rapid orders to his men, and as he did so Lablache observed, for the first time, that the Breeds numbered at least half-a-dozen. He felt sure that not more than four besides their chief had traveled with them, and yet now the number had increased.
The obvious conclusion was that the others were already here at the time of the arrival of the buckboard, doubtless with the purpose of carrying out Retief's plans.
The Breeds moved off in various directions, and their chief and the money-lender were left alone. As soon as the others were out of earshot the raider approached his captive. His face seemed to have undergone some subtle change. The lofty air of command had been replaced by a look of bitter hatred and terrible cruelty.
"Now, Lablache," he said coldly, "I guess you're goin' to see some fun. I ain't mostly hard on people. I like to do the thing han'some. Say I'll jest roll this bar'l 'long so as you ken set. An' see hyar, ef you're mighty quiet I'll loose them hands o' yours."
Lablache deigned no reply, but the other was as good as his word.
"Sulky, some, I guess," the half-breed went on. "Wal, I'm not goin' back on my word," he added as he rolled the barrel up to his prisoner and scotched it securely. "Thar, set."
The money-lender didn't move.
"Set!" This time the word conveyed a command and the other sat down on the barrel.
"Guess I can't stand cantankerous cusses. Now, let's have a look at yer bracelets."