Before Donnegan gave the signal to halt in a clear space where the starlight was least indistinct, they reached the center of the trees.

“Now, George,” he said, “drop your gun to the ground.”

There was a flash and faint thud.

“Now the other gun.”

“They ain’t any more, sir.”

“Your other gun,” repeated Donnegan.

A little pause.  “Do what he tells you, George,” said the gambler at length, and a second weapon fell.

“Now keep on your horse and keep a little off to the side,” went on Donnegan, “and remember that if you try to give me the jump I might miss you in this light, but I’d be sure to hit your horse.  So don’t take chances, George.  Now, sir, just hold your hands over your head and then dismount.”

He had already gone through the gambler and taken his weapons; he was now obeyed.  The man of the linen coat tossed up his arms, flung his right leg over the horn of the saddle, and slipped to the ground.

Donnegan joined his captive.  “I warn you first,” he said gently, “that I am quite expert with a revolver, and that it will be highly dangerous to attempt to trick me.  Lower your arms if you wish, but please be careful of what you do with your hands.  There are such things as knife throwing, I know, but it takes a fast wrist to flip a knife faster than a bullet.  We understand each other?”

“Perfectly,” agreed the other.  “By the way, my name is Godwin.  And suppose we become frank.  You are in temporary distress.  It was impossible for you to make a loan at the moment and you are driven to this forced—­touch.  Now, if half—­”

“Hush,” said Donnegan.  “You are too generous.  But the present question is not one of money.  I have long since passed over that.  The money is now mine.  Steady!” This to George, who lurched in the saddle; but Godwin was calm as stone.  “It is not the question of the money that troubles me, but the question of the men.  I could easily handle one of you.  But I fear to allow both of you to go free.  You would return on my trail; there are such things as waylayings by night, eh?  And so, Mr. Godwin, I think my best way out is to shoot you through the head.  When your body is found it will be taken for granted that the servant killed the master for the sake of the money which he won by crooked card play.  I think that’s simple.  Put your hands up, George, or, by heck, I’ll let the starlight shine through you!”

The huge arms of George were raised above his head; Godwin, in the meantime, had not spoken.

“I almost think you mean it,” he said after a short pause.

“Good,” said Donnegan.  “I do not wish to kill you unprepared.”

There was a strangled sound deep in the throat of Godwin; then he was able to speak again, but now his voice was made into a horrible jumble by fear.

“Pal,” he said, “you’re dead wrong.  George here—­he’s a devil.  If you let him live he’ll kill you—­as sure as you’re standing here.  You don’t know him.  He’s George Green.  He’s got a record as long as my arm and as bad as the devil’s name.  He—­he’s the man to get rid of.  Me?  Why, man, you and I could team it together.  But George—­not—­”