no inclination to interfere. But another of the family, Francois, the oldest son, dropped his gun and pinioned the girl's hands to her sides and carried her into the bush. When he came back the girl did not attempt to follow him.
"Good lord! What a woman!" gasped Lander. He stood in greater fear of the pretty vixen than he did of the entire Deschamps gang.
"If Phinny marries her he will be paying the price for all his deviltry."
"Get down," ordered Deschamps.
There was an ominous steadying of guns and Bridger quietly slid from the saddle and motioned for Lander to do likewise.
"You and your gang plan to steal Gauche's horses while he camps to cure a sick man," Bridger accused.
Deschamps was startled. The white man's medicine was very wise to read his plans. His villainous old face hardened. When the white man showed he knew so much he dug his own grave. After he had answered certain important questions he and his young friend would disappear. Bridger swung his bold gaze over the circle of sullen faces and remarked:
"My medicine is whispering to me that your
