They were charged with the murdering and robbing of a ranchman; and having stolen his horses it was supposed that they had left the country. I gave them no signs of recognition however, deeming it advisable to let them remain in ignorance as to who I was. It was a hard crowd, and I concluded that the sooner I could get away from them the better it would be for me. I felt confident that they were a band of horse-thieves.
“Where are you going, young man; and who’s with you?” asked one of the men who appeared to be the leader of the gang.
“I am entirely alone. I left Horseshoe station this morning for a bear hunt, and not finding any bears, I had determined to camp out for the night and wait till morning,” said I; “and just as I was going into camp, a few hundred yards down the creek, I heard one of your horses whinnying, and then I came up to your camp.”
[Illustration: THE HORSE THIEVES’ DEN.]
I was thus explicit in my statement in order, if possible to satisfy the cut-throats that I was not spying upon them, but that my intrusion was entirely accidental.
“Where’s your horse?” demanded the boss thief.
“I left him down the creek,” I answered.
They proposed going after the horse, but I thought that that would never do, as it would leave me without any means of escape, and I accordingly said, in hopes to throw them off the track, “Captain, I’ll leave my gun here and go down and get my horse, and come back and stay all night.”
I said this in as cheerful and as careless a manner as possible, so as not to arouse their suspicions in any way, or lead them to think that I was aware of their true character. I hated to part with my gun, but my suggestion of leaving it was a part of the plan of escape which I had arranged. If they have the gun, thought I, they would surely believe that I intended to come back. But this little game did not work at all, as one of the desperadoes spoke up and said:
“Jim and I will go down with you after your horse, and you can leave your gun here all the same, as you’ll not need it.”
“All right,” I replied, for I could certainly have said nothing else. It became evident to me that it would be better to trust myself with two men than with the whole party. It was apparent that from this time on, I would have to be on the alert for some good opportunity to give them the slip.
“Come along,” said one of them, and together we went down the creek, and soon came to the spot where my horse was tied. One of the men unhitched the animal and said: “I’ll lead the horse.”
“Very well,” said I, “I’ve got a couple of sage-hens here. Lead on.”
I picked up the sage-hens, which I had killed a few hours before, and followed the man who was leading the horse, while his companion brought up the rear. The nearer we approached the dug-out the more I dreaded the idea of going back among the villainous cut-throats.