“Now,––repeat after me!”
Dalton laughed and rolled his eyes upward to the ceiling.
Jim’s arm darted out and the butt-end of the revolver caught Dalton such a sharp rap over the head that that individual was some seconds before he recovered.
“Now,” said Jim, “are you ready?”
Dalton sat tight.
“Hi, boys!” shouted Langford sharply, a sudden inspiration seizing him. “I’ve got a dirty horse-thief, red-handed and self-confessed. Bring in a rope. We can start him with a dip in the horse-trough.”
Three husky individuals strode inside.
Dalton gasped. He knew just what the men in the 256 Valley thought of horse-stealing, in general, and he was all unprepared for this sudden move of Jim’s.
“Steady a minute, boys!” exclaimed Jim. “It seems that Dalton has not quite made up his mind as to whether he stole those horses of mine that he sold afterwards, or simply took them from me in part-payment of the Brantlock Ranch.
“Now, Rattler, come on, repeat your little spiel after me, or go with the boys and get what’s coming to you.”