“Well, by thunder!” cried the man in utter amazement.
Murrell looked into Hues' face.
“You—you—” and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an inarticulate murmur.
“It's all up, John,” said Hues.
“No!” said Murrell, recovering himself. “You may as well turn me loose—you can't arrest me!”
“I've done it,” answered Hues, with a laugh. “I've been on your track for six months.”
“How about this fellow?” asked the man, whose pistol still covered Ware. Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his head.
“Where are you going to take me?” asked Murrell quickly. Again Hues laughed.
“You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends can pass the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!”
Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back along the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one of his companions close at his heels, while the third man led off the outlaw's horse.