It had hardly died away when the quiet was broken by one
terrific crash of rifles, and the two camp guards asleep at the fire
awoke in another world.
Mr. Trendley, sleeping unusually well for the unjust, leaped from
his bed to the middle of the floor and alighted on his feet and wide
awake. Fearing that a plot was being consummated to deprive him of his
leadership, he grasped the Winchester which leaned at the head of his
bed and, tearing open the door, crashed headlong to the earth. As he
touched the ground, two shadows sped out from the shelter of the cabin
wall and pounced upon him. Men who can rope, throw and tie a wild
steer in thirty seconds flat do not waste time in trussing operations,
and before a minute had elapsed he was being carried into the woods,
bound and helpless. Lanky sighed, threw the rope over one shoulder and
departed after his friends.
When Mr. Trendley came to his senses he found himself bound to a
tree in the grove near the horses. A man sat on a stump not far from
him, three others were seated around a small fire some distance to the
north, and four others, one of whom carried a rope, made their way
into the brush. He strained at his bonds, decided that the effort was
useless and watched the man on the stump, who struck a match and lit a
pipe. The prisoner watched the light flicker up and go out and there
was left in his mind a picture that he could never forget.
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