toying with the trigger. His glances followed the direction indicated by the muzzle of the weapon. Then Tad's face flushed hot all over. There, back to a tree, a rope twisted twice about his body sat Ned Rector, defiance in face and eyes. Ned was looking straight at his captor. The situation was strained. To Tad, it was maddening.

"What is it you want me to tell you?" demanded the prisoner.

"I've told you that already. What are your orders?"

"And I have already told you, I have no orders from any one."

"How many are in your party?"

"Five, not including the horses."

"I wasn't asking about the cayuses. Who is in charge of you?"

"You wouldn't know if I told you."

"I'm asking you!"

"His name is Zepplin, Professor Zepplin."

"One of them scientific shooters, eh?"

"I don't know about his being a shooter. He is scientific, all right.
But what's that got to do with you and me?"

"Did this—-this perfesser get his orders from Bill McKay?"

"I should say not," answered Ned with a mirthless laugh.

"Who was it you was to look up?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do. Don't try to make a monkey of me. You'll be willing to answer right smart after I've fanned you with a forty-four. Who is it you and your bunch are after?"

"We are after no one. Can't you understand English?" replied Rector with some heat, "I have told you that we are here on a trip for pleasure and nothing else."

"You said you was here for your health, a little time ago," grinned the mountaineer.

"Well, what if we are?" snorted Ned.

"Nothing only that I'm going to drill you full of holes. The two minutes is about up. You've lied to me pretty near every word you've said. You said you didn't know Bill McKay when I know you do. You've said he hadn't given you any orders. You've—-"

"You're crazy," scoffed Rector.

"I reckon if I am that you're more so if you think I am going to gulp down all them fairy stories. You're young. Mebby you don't know the kind of a game you've stacked up against, but—-"

"I ought to have some idea about it by this time," returned Ned.
"Everything you have said is a lie and you know it. I don't know you,
nor do I want to, being somewhat particular about the people I know.
And now once more, are you going to let me go?"

A sudden note of triumph had leaped into the tone of Ned Rector. Ned had seen something that sent the blood coursing through his veins madly. That something was a figure that for a few seconds had been outlined in the faint light of the fire.

The mountaineer caught the change of tone on the instant. His suspicions were aroused. His eyes narrowed. He slowly straightened up until he had risen to his full height. Now the rifle came up to position, ready for work. It was at his chest again. The mountaineer had no need to bring the weapon to a level with his eyes. He could shoot equally well from almost any position.

Rector shot a quick glance over the mountaineer's shoulder. He could not resist one more look in Tad's direction. But that look was fatal. With a roar the fellow wheeled like a flash.

Bang, bang!

The shots were fired with such suddenness that Ned did not realize the fellow had turned until after the rifle had spit two charges of fire and lead. Ned's head dropped. Everything grew black about him again. The lad was in a fainting condition. It was all up with him now.

Ned had tried to cry out, but the words would not come. He could not utter a sound if his very life depended upon so doing.

Ned found his voice at last. It rose in a mighty yell for help, a yell that carried far beyond the spot where those exciting scenes were being enacted.