Three Young Ranchmen Part 25

"We hev ye, stranger," remarked Watson after a second of silence. "Do ye acknowledge the corn?"

"What's the meaning of this outrage?" growled the fellow who was standing, and he scowled fiercely, first at the old hunter and then at the young ranchman.

"It means firstly that ye are in our power," chuckled Watson. It was evident that he thoroughly enjoyed the situation.

"Well?"

"Then ye acknowledge thet, do ye?"

"I suppose we'll have to."

"It's Ike Watson from Gold Fork," put in the man who was sitting.

"Ike Watson!" the face of the speaker grew quite disturbed. It was plain he had heard of Watson before and did not relish being held up by the well-known old man.

"Ye-as, I'm Ike Watson," drawled the old hunter. "Now, strangers, give me yer handles, and let me have 'em straight."

"My name is Roe Bluckburn," came from the standing man.

"Mine is Lou Slavin, and I'm not ashamed of it," came from the other.

"Jes' so," mused Watson. "I've heard o' both o' yeez belongin' to the old Sol Davids gang o' hoss thieves."

"You are mistaken. We are not thieves of any sort," said Bluckburn, who appeared the leader of the pair.

"Well, we won't quarrel about that, seein' ez how we are on another trail ter day. We want ye ter up an' tell us ter onct whar Barnaby Winthrop is."

"Yes, and tell us the truth," put in Allen, sternly.

The men were both taken aback by the request. They exchanged glances and each waited for the other to speak.

"Come, out with it, Bluckburn!" cried Watson.

"Dunno the man you are talking about."

"Ye can't come it thet way. Didn't I hear ye talkin' it over down ter Casey's Forks only yesterday? Come, out with the truth, or take the consequences!" and to scare the horse thief Ike Watson tapped his gun barrel suggestively.

"Must be some mistake. We wasn't near Casey's Fork in a month. Eh, Lou?"

"Nixy."

"Ye tell it so smooth I would most believe ye, if I hadn't follered ye up," growled Watson. "But we know ye air in the deal ag'in Barnaby Winthrop, an' I am hyer ter help his nevvy thar, Allen Winthrop. So ye hed better ease yer mind ter onct. Understand?"

The two men turned their attention to Allen curiously. They wished to hold a consultation, but Watson would not permit it.

At that moment Noel Urner came forward, having succeeded in tying all of the horses in a little grove not far distant.

He eyed both of the prisoners keenly, and then gave a start.

"I saw that man in San Francisco!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, pointing to Roe Bluckburn. "He was hanging around the very hotel at which Mr. Barnaby Winthrop stopped."

"It ain't so," growled Bluckburn, but his face proclaimed that Noel Urner had spoken the truth.

"If that is the case, then he is the one who decoyed my uncle away," put in Allen. "For there is no longer any doubt in my mind that he was spirited away in some fas.h.i.+on."

"Air ye fellers goin' ter speak?" roared Ike Watson, impatiently. "Ye can't expect me ter stand hyer with a gun the rest o' the day!"

"Unless you do speak, we shall bind you and hand you over to the sheriff," said Allen. "We believe we have a good case against you--and will have a better after Captain Grady is placed under arrest," he added, struck with a sudden thought.

"Captain Grady!" groaned the man named Lou Slavin. "I reckon the jig is up, Roe."

"Shut up!" growled Bluckburn.

"But if the captain is known wot show have we got?" grumbled Slavin.

"Say?" he continued eagerly. "I went into this thing ag'in my will, an'

I wish I was out of it. Supposin' I tell yer the truth about the hull gang, does that save me?"

"Don't you say a word, Lou!" shouted Bluckburn, warningly, but ere he could speak further the muzzle of Ike Watson's gun caused him to retreat up to the tree, where he stood, not daring to say another word.

"Go on and have yer say!" cried the old hunter to Lou Slavin. "And, ez I said before, give it ter us straight. Whar is Barnaby Winthrop?"

"He is a prisoner, about ten miles from here," was Slavin's flat and sudden confession.

CHAPTER XX.

Moving against Captain Grady

Both Paul and Chet Winthrop were deeply interested in the words uttered by Jeff Jones, the colored member of the horse thieves' gang.

"So you know something of Captain Grady and our uncle, Barnaby Winthrop?" cried Chet, excitedly. "What do you know?"

"Dat's fer you two fellers ter find out--onless yer let's me go,"

replied Jeff Jones, suggestively.

"You mean you won't speak unless we grant you your liberty?" put in Paul.

"Dat's de way to figure it."

Paul looked at Chet inquiringly.

"We can't promise anything until Mr. Dottery gets back," said Chet. "But if you know anything about our uncle you had better speak out, if you wish us to do anything at all for you."

"I won't say a word," growled the colored man.

Chet bit his lip in vexation.