“Let—­let go—­my—­throat!” Tom managed to gasp.

“Will you keep quiet?” demanded Harney.

“Yes—­yes.”

“All right, mind you do.”  And then the guide released his hold, but continued to sit as he was, astride of poor Tom’s chest.

“Have you got him?” came from Dan Baxter.

“Yes,” returned the big guide.

“All right; then hold him.”

“I will.”

Leaving Sam to be watched by Jasper Grinder, Baxter ran over to one of the sleds and procured a long rope.

“Now then, Tom Rover, get up,” he said sourly.

Tom was glad to arise.

“What are you going to do with me?” he questioned.

“You’ll see fast enough.”

“Going to try your old tricks of making me a prisoner, I suppose.”

“You’re a prisoner already.”

“Thank you, for nothing,” returned Tom, as coolly as he could.

“Don’t you get impudent, Tom Rover.  If you try it on, you’ll get more than you bargain for, let me tell you that.”

“You always were a first-class bully, Baxter.  You like to tackle little boys, or else somebody who is helpless.”

“Shut up!  I won’t listen to you, now!” roared Baxter, and grabbing Tom’s hands he forced them back and bound them together.  Then the ropes was passed around Tom’s waist, so that he could not move his hands to the front.

By the time this work was accomplished Sam was regaining consciousness.  He gave a moan of pain, and then sat up in bewilderment.

“Who—­what’s happened?” he stammered.  Then he looked around.  “Oh!  I remember now!”

He was very unsteady when he got on his feet, and it was Tom who made the first move toward him.

“Too bad, Sam.  They are a set of brutes.”

“Don’t call me a brute Rover,” growled Jasper Grinder.  “Neither you nor your brother have all you deserve.”

Sam was bound with a rope, and then both prisoners were told to walk over to the fire.  This they did, and were left in charge of Husty and Jasper Grinder, while Baxter went off a distance, in company with big Bill Harney.

“Well, what do you want to do with ’em?” demanded Harney, when he and the bully were out of hearing of the others, “’Pears to me you’ve taken the law in yer own hands.”

“I’m glad I’ve caught them,” returned Dan Baxter.  “They may help us to find what I am after.”

“Think they’ve got a better map nor yours?”

“They may have.”

“Supposing that brother comes up, with John Barrow?  They may make it hot for us.”

“That’s what I want to ask you about, Harney.  Isn’t there some place around here where we might hide the prisoners?  A cave, or something like that?”

The big guide scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“There’s a tolerable place about quarter of a mile from here—­the old B’ars’ Hole, we use ter call it.”

“Of course we don’t want to run up against any bears,” said Baxter, with a show of nervousness.