Rodney Ropes is in our hands.  He wants his liberty and we want money.  Send us five thousand dollars, or arrange a meeting at which it can be delivered to us, and he shall go free.  Otherwise his death be on your hands.  His captors.

Rodney noticed that this missive was written in a handsome business hand.

“You write a handsome hand,” he said.

“I ought to,” was the reply.  “I was once bookkeeper in a large business house.”

“And what—­” here Rodney hesitated.

“What made me an outlaw you mean to ask?”

“Yes.”

“My nature, I suppose.  I wasn’t cut out for sober, humdrum life.”

“Don’t you think you would have been happier?”

“No preaching, kid!  I had enough of that when I used to go to church in my old home in Missouri.  Here, Caesar!”

“Yes, massa.”

“You know Oreville?”

“Yes, massa.”

“Go over there and take this letter with you.  Ask for Jefferson Pettigrew, and mind you don’t tell him where we live.  Only if he asks about me and my pal say we are desperate men, have each killed a round dozen of fellows that stood in our way and will stick at nothing.”

“All right, massa,” said Caesar with an appreciative grin.  “How shall I go, massa?”

“You can take the kid’s horse.  Ride to within a mile of Oreville, then tether the horse where he won’t easily be found, and walk over to the mines.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, massa.”

“He won’t probably give you any money, but he may give you a letter.  Bring it safely to me.”

Caesar nodded and vanished.

For an hour the two men smoked their pipes and chatted.  Then they rose, and the elder said:  “We are going out, kid, for a couple of hours.  Are you afraid to stay alone?”

“Why should I be?”

“That’s the way to talk.  I won’t caution you not to escape, for it would take a smarter lad then you to do it.  If you are tired you can lie down on the bed and rest.”

“All right!”

“I am sorry we haven’t got the morning paper for you to look over,” said his captor with a smile.  “The carrier didn’t leave it this morning.”

“I can get along without it.  I don’t feel much like reading.”

“You needn’t feel worried.  You’ll be out of this tomorrow if Jefferson Pettigrew is as much your friend as you think he is.”

“The only thing that troubles me is the big price you charge at your hotel.”

“Good!  The kid has a good wit of his own.  After all, we wouldn’t mind keeping you with us.  It might pay you better than working for Pettigrew.”

“I hope you’ll excuse my saying it, but I don’t like the business.”

“You may change your mind.  At your age we wouldn’t either of us like the sort of life we are leading.  Come, John.”

The two men went out but did not allow Rodney to accompany them to the place of exit.