Jim had been in the shanty about an hour, and was standing with his back to the counter; Stony was sitting in the corner, his hands clasped between his knees, his eyes fixed upon the floor, unconscious of his surroundings, when the flap of the tent was lifted, and Ryder stepped in, running a keen, searching eye over the company.  Jim saw him start as his gaze encountered Stony.  He paused for a moment, and then slipped back into darkness, dropping the tent-door after him.  Done understood his intention.  ‘He will wait,’ he said to himself, and determined to watch events.  Ryder had awakened in him an extraordinary interest.

Stony sat in a state of abstraction for close upon half an hour, and when he arose and left the place Jim followed him.  The night was dark, and Stony had disappeared, but the young man walked quietly in the direction of the hatter’s camp.  He could see nothing of either man, and had decided that he was mistaken regarding Ryder’s intention, when a low but blood-chilling sound—­the noise made by a man fighting against strangulation—­broke upon his ear.  He had been seeking for this, but the shock unnerved him for a moment.

XIII

Peering through the darkness, Done discovered the shadowy figures of two men.  The figures were rigid upon the ground.  There was no further sound.  The young man approached closely and stood by Ryder, dropping his hand upon his shoulder.  There was just light enough for him to see a revolver snatched from the belt, or a movement of such suggestiveness, but he fastened on that right arm with a grip to which it succumbed instantly.

‘It is I, Jim Done!’ he said.

‘Save me!  Save me!’ cried Stony in accents of supreme terror.

‘Why do you interfere?’ asked Ryder with a ring of anger.  ’What interest can you have in this hound?’

‘None,’ replied Jim.  ’I followed from the shanty, guessing something would happen.  I’m shamefully curious.’

‘You are a fool!  It might have cost you your life.’

‘You certainly do not show any particular respect for human life.’  Jim released the other’s arm.

‘For Christ’s sake don’t leave me!’ moaned Stony.  ‘He means murder!’

’I have told you I value this man’s life.  I tell you again I have no intention of killing him, but I hate him so that the ravenous desire to crush the soul out of him is hard to resist.  There is a story he must tell me; when that is told he may go.  If he refuses to tell there is no power on God’s earth to keep me from my vengeance.  But he shall tell—­the craven shall tell!  There’ll be no further mischief done, I promise you.  Leave us.’

‘For the love of Heaven!’ pleaded Stony.  ‘He’ll kill!  He’ll kill!’

‘I have your word,’ said Jim.

‘My word of honour,’ answered Ryder.

‘If it’s broken, I swear to help you to your hanging.’