"I be."

"Then ye're a bigger fool than I am. I'm goin' ter carry out orders.

What's ther difference? A couple of good slashes an' it's all over."

"But think o' the death cry, Bill. I've heerd too many o' them already.

I hears them when I sleep and they wake me up."

"Tom, yer talk ter me like a sick canary peeps. I always thought yer wuz a man."

"An' don't yer think so now, Bill?"

"Not from ther way yer talkin'."

"Well, if yer has any doubts erbout it I'll give yer a chanct ter prove it, any way yer like."

"Now, what's ther use o' talkin' that away, Tom? d.i.c.k's dead by ther hand o' ther boss. What's thar in it fer you or me if ther cub in thar dies er not? Be sensible."

"It ain't matterin' a chaw o' terbaccer ter me whether he dies er not, but he's got a right ter die in a natural way, so to speak."

"An' how is that, my Sunday-school friend?"

"In a fair fight, by gosh!"

"An' who's goin' ter give him a fair fight? I don't want none o' it."

"So that's ther way yer built, is it, Bill? I always thought yer was a game man."

"I reckon I be, but that's not in this question. Here's an enemy ter ther gang what lays bound in the cabin. Why should I resk my life in a fight with him er fer him. It's so derned easy fer a feller ter go in thar an' stick a knife inter him, an' then, yer see, it's all over with."

"Yer wrong, Bill."

"I'd sooner do that than have ther boss come back an' stick his knife inter me."

"Aire yer afraid ter fight ther boss?"

"He's ther only man I be afraid of."

There was a long silence following this, and Ted understood the terrible power of Checkers over his men, and Desmond's warning.

"Well, I'm tired o' chewin' erbout ther virtue o' killin' a man one way or another, an' I'm goin' ter foller orders. If you don't want ter jine in I reckon as how I'll have ter tell ther boss that yer flunked."

There was no response to this, and a few moments elapsed in which Ted listened hopefully for his champion's voice.

Suddenly something dropped in the fireplace, and Ted, straining his eyes in that direction, saw a tiny pair of tan riding boots come into view, followed by a tan skirt, and Stella dropped noiselessly into the room.

She held up a warning finger as she saw Ted in the corner.

"Sh, sh!" she whispered, as she felt for his bonds and cut them.

Ted was on his feet on the instant, and Stella pressed a revolver into his hand.

"I didn't go back to the ranch house, but followed you here. I saw the red car go out, and hid. Then I sneaked along until I heard those fellows quarreling. I was on the top of the bluff here, and guessed that you were inside the cabin, as I couldn't see you anywhere outside, so I just dropped in." As Stella whispered this she smiled, and Ted could only look his thanks.

The fellow named Tom, who had been opposed to killing Ted, had evidently been doing some hard thinking, and the threat of his mate to expose him to Checkers evidently convinced him that he would rather be alive than perish for a mere sentiment.

"All right, Bill," he said; "I don't like it, but we've got to share it."

"Sure," said the other. "It'll be blow and blow. We both strike together."

"Come on, then."

"Now," said Ted, putting Stella behind him and crouching in the darkness.

The two men entered the cabin noisily, knowing that they had nothing to fear from an unarmed boy bound hand and foot and lying in the corner with nothing to hope for.

As they approached the corner they were surprised to see a stalwart young form arise suddenly and a pair of revolvers gleam through the darkness as a voice rang out commandingly:

"Hands up!"

The hands of both went up very promptly.

"Drop those knives!"

A pair of knives clattered to the floor.

"Face about, both of you, and go out. The first to make a break gets a shot in the back."

At Ted's command both men obeyed. When they were outside in the sunlight, Ted looked them over. Both had revolvers in their holsters.

"Take their revolvers away from them, Stella," said Ted.

As the girl moved forward to comply with the request of Ted Strong, the men stared at her in amazement.

"Now, which of you is Tom?" asked Ted.

"I am," said one of them.

"You lie!" answered Ted. "I know you by your voice. You are not Tom:--you are Bill."

"Yes, I'm Tom," said the other fellow.

"That's right," said Ted.

"Now, see here, Tom, if I give you the chance will you dig out of this and escape? It won't be very long before you are caught, anyway, and you know what that means."

"You bet I will," said the fellow, who had protested against the murder of Ted.

"All right, I'll give you the chance. I'll take your friend in charge myself. You can take down your hands, Tom."