"He's a
precedent to hell for yu fellers! Don't yu get ambitious, none
whatever." Then he wondered how long it would take the fugitive to
secure a rifle and return to release the others by drilling him at
long range.
His thoughts were interrupted by the vision of a red head that
climbed into view over a rise a short distance off and he grinned his
delight as Mr. Cassidy loomed up, jaunty and triumphant. Mr. Cassidy
was executing calisthenics with a Colt in the rear of Mr. Travennes'
neck and was leading the horses.
Mr. Connors waved the skillet and his friend grinned his
congratulations at what the token signified.
"I see yu got some more," said Mr. Cassidy, as he went down the
line-up from the rear and collected nineteen weapons of various makes
and conditions, this number being explained by the fact that all but
one of the prisoners wore two. Then he added the five that had kicked
against his ribs ever since he had left the hut, and carefully
threaded the end of his lariat through the trigger guards.
"Looks like we stuck up a government supply mule, Red," he remarked,
as he fastened the whole collection to his saddle. "Fourteen colts,
six Merwin-Hulbert's, three Prescott, an' one puzzle," he added,
examining the puzzle. "Made in Germany, it says, and it shore looks
like it. It's got little pins stickin' out of th' cylinder, like you
had to swat it with a hammer or a rock, or somethin' to make it go
off.
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