Suddenly his face broke into a hideous smile.
"Pedro, get off that horse!" he commanded. "Put your scout on the one the girl's riding. Tie him fast, so he can't get loose. Then take the man from behind me and put him, together with the kid, on your horse. I'll take the girl with me."
To the others, it seemed nothing could have been more significant of the change that had come over the desperado than his refusal to call Rose by her name.
Yet Red's next words gave evidence that there was.
"Better give her guns and knives to me before you begin transferring the scouts, Pedro," he commanded.
"Am I a prisoner?" demanded the girl, her voice defiant, though in her heart she was deeply alarmed.
"Not yet!" returned the outlaw, grinning as he made use of the very words of Rose—words which had caused his metamorphosis. "It depends on how you behave. Get a move on, Pedro, it will soon be dark."
As his pal, too familiar with his chief's moods to dally, stepped toward the girl, she determined upon a last appeal.
"Shame on you, Red Rogers, to order her weapons to be taken from your old pal Barney Landon's daughter!" she flashed.
"And shame on you for refusing a kiss to the only friend you or old Barney Landon ever had," mocked the outlaw.