Over the binding folds of the bandanna Whistler's eyes blazed like a cornered wolf's.
Hank Rogers had finished his job of binding the other outlaw's arms to his side with a handy loop left round the throat to be tightened for purposes of persuasion. Him Original also gagged. When both prisoners were at the door Original blew out the light. Timberline, chuckling softly, joined them at the door. The two helpless men were swiftly propelled across to the alder thicket where the horses waited. Zang and his bodyguard—for such the captors judged the second man to be—were, helped to saddles; Timber line and Rogers mounted behind them, and a wide circuit of the little settlement was made before the road to the valley door and Tisdale's beyond was resumed.
When they had ridden a mile from Bar C Ranch Original pushed his horse alongside of the one that was carrying Zang and released the gag from his mouth. The second prisoner was similarly freed. Whistler voiced no word, either of appreciation or of comment. The man was roweled by a burning question which his pride would not permit him to voice. What had Original done with Hilma; where was she now? Was this daring sally into the
