"I'm going to take you back to the boys that are combing these hills for you. They'll do all that's done."
The prisoner's sneer went out of commission. He did not need to ask what Arizona cowpunchers would do to him under the circumstances.
"I figured your size was about a twenty-two—not big enough to fight it out alone with me. Once is a-plenty."
The cave man's desire to beat down his enemy with his naked hands smouldered fiercely in the cowpuncher's heart.
"Step out in front of me and saddle those horses," he ordered.
Harrison looked at him murderously. His mouth was an ugly, crooked gash. Boiling with rage, he saddled, cinched, and watered the horses.
Ruth had returned with Steve's pony. Her heart beat fast with excitement. An instinct told her they were about to come to grips in epic struggle.
"You're mighty high-heeled now when you got a gun thrown on me. Put it in the discard and I'll beat the life out o' you," threatened the prizefighter.
Not releasing the other man with his eyes, Yeager lent one hand to help Ruth mount. He gave clear, curt instructions in a level voice.
"Take all three horses and ride to the edge of the mesa. Wait there. One of us—either him or me—will come up there after a while. If it's him, take all the horses and light out. Keep the moon on your left and ride straight forward till daybreak. You'll see a gash in the hills about where the sun rises. That's Sieber's Pass. The boys will be waiting for you. Understand?"