As they dashed into the clearing in front of the house, the door was thrown open and several men came out to greet the newcomers.  The saddles were taken from the horses’ backs and they were turned loose to graze.  Then the party entered the house and the door was closed.

For a few minutes Bert remained perfectly motionless.  There had been no barking of dogs, and, after listening intently, he became convinced that no living thing was out of doors in the vicinity of the shack.  With infinite caution he wormed his way along the ground and, reaching a window in the rear of the house, drew himself to the sill and peered over the edge.

There were six men gathered about a table in the center of the room, upon which a seventh, who seemed to be the cook, was placing dishes of bacon and beans.  The chief, whose arm had been bathed and rebound in a cotton bandage, was seated at the head of the table.  A bottle of whiskey was passing from hand to hand as a preliminary to the more substantial part of the meal, and the men who had just arrived were evidently retailing to their fellow rascals the events that had led up to the shooting.

So engrossed was Bert in watching the outlaws, that he did not see or hear the approach of a dark figure stealing up behind him.  An arm shot out and a pistol butt came down on his head with a crash.  A myriad of sparks flashed before his eyes, there was the roar of a cataract in his ears, and he fell to the ground like a log.

When consciousness came back to him it was morning.  He was lying on the floor of the shack and the hot sun was streaming in upon him.  His head ached horribly, and for a moment he wondered where he was.  Then gradually he recalled the events of the day before, the fracas in the saloon, the tracking of the rustlers, the looking in at the window.  But then it was night, and now it was broad daylight.  What had happened to him?

He put his hand to his head and felt that his hair was matted with blood.  Then he tried to rise to his feet, but found that they were tied together, and sank back with a groan.  The wall of the house was just behind him, and he edged painfully toward it, until he was able to sit up and have some support for his back.  Then with swimming eyes he looked around him.

As his vision cleared, he saw that there were two men sitting in the center of the room.  They had not spoken a word, but had watched with a sort of amused interest his gradual coming back to life.  In one of them he recognized the outlaw captain, and the other was the burly, red-haired giant, whose trail he had followed the afternoon before.  There was no trace of the others and they had evidently gone to attend to the stock, or on some errand connected with the operations of the band.

The leader’s eyes fastened on Bert with a penetrating glare, as though he sought to read the secrets of his soul.  The captive met his look calmly and defiantly, and for a moment there was a silent duel.  But Bert’s gaze remained level, and the captain, a little disconcerted at his failure to make his prisoner cringe, resorted to taunts.