"The door was flung open, and Black Dan, with his hands held up, stalked forth into the moonlight."
With a roar Jim sprang out from behind the fir tree, dragging Long Jackson with him by the sudden violence of his rush.
"Down, Jim, down!" ordered Blackstock. "Lay down an' shut up." And Jim, grumbling in his throat, allowed Jackson to pull him back by the collar.
Blackstock advanced and clicked the handcuffs on to Black Dan's wrists. Then he took the revolver and knife from the prisoner's belt, and motioned him back into the hut.
"Bein' pretty late now," said Blackstock, "I guess we'll accept yer hospitality for the rest o' the night."
"Right ye are, Tug," assented Dan. "Ye'll find tea an' merlasses, an' a bite o' bacon in the cupboard yonder."
As the rest of the party came in Black Dan nodded to them cordially, a greeting which they returned with more or less sheepish grins.
"Excuse me ef I don't shake hands with ye, boys," said he, "but Tug here says the state o' me health makes it bad for me to use me arms." And he held up the handcuffs.
"No apologies needed," said MacDonald.