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"No, I can't say that, Ralph," was the grave answer. "But I am afraid it will make us more trouble all around. Stiger and Bison Head are intimate friends, and if the Indians are going on the war-path again, the half-breed may direct an attack upon us. It was a great mistake to speak about that stolen horse. We can't prove that Stiger took it, although I am morally sure he was the guilty party."
It must be confessed that Hank Stiger was badly frightened when Ralph confronted him with the loaded gun. He was naturally not an overly brave fellow, and while the boy before him was young, yet he realised that Ralph could shoot as well as many a man. Besides this, Dan was there, and he was also armed, and now had his finger on the trigger of the ancient cavalry musket. "Don't shoot!"
"Give me a drink, I am dyin'." "I dun tole you dat it was ag'in the massah's ordahs, sah." "He said I could have water if I would talk," growled Stiger. "Is yo' ready to talk?" "Yes." At once the negro called his master, who was busy, with the boys and Poke Stover, in putting down some hog-meat for the winter. Knowing how greatly Stiger must suffer, Amos Radbury went to him without delay.
In those days it was no uncommon thing to hang a horse thief, but had this happened to Hank Stiger, it is likely that the Comanches under Bison Head, who had their hunting-grounds in the Cross Timbers, so-called, of the upper Colorado River, would have gone on the war-path immediately following. The cabin was a strongly built affair of rough logs, fifteen feet deep by thirty feet long.
"You shall put it down, Hank Stiger. You are nothing but a horse-thief, and I " "Ha! call me a hoss-thief!" ejaculated the half-breed, in a rage. "I won't stand that, boy. You shall suffer for it." "You are a horse-thief, and stole one of my father's animals last year. Now you want to steal my deer, but you shall not do it. Dan, he's got to give it up, hasn't he?"
Dan examined the pile with care, and presently came upon the papers, safe and sound, just as they had been stolen by Hank Stiger. "They are here!" he cried, and passed them over for examination. "Won't father be glad of this!" And off he ran a little later to tell his parent. Amos Radbury could scarcely speak, but his satisfaction shone in his eyes. "It is a great relief," he murmured.
The next day proved so stormy and cold that the boys were glad to remain indoors. It did not snow, but the rain was a half hail and the wind was of the kind that reaches one's marrow. Only Amos Radbury and Poke Stover went out, to the cattle shed and the nearest range, and they were glad enough to come in long before evening. "Hank Stiger won't stir around much in this weather," observed Mr.
But now Henry Parker stepped up. "None of that, Stiger," he said, sharply, and placed his hand on the handle of the pistol he carried in his belt. "He wants to make trouble for me. He says I stole some papers," growled Hank Stiger, sullenly. "And I guess he is right, too," returned Henry. "If I understand the matter, he has proof against you."
"That is not improbable, for Stiger was around this vicinity and did not fight with the Comanches. He could easily have come in after we went off on the trail. When was the robbery committed?" "Him come in at the last sundown," answered Big Foot, meaning the evening before. "Alone?" "Yes." "And which way did he go?"
He bent down and made a closer examination, and as he did this Henry gave a deep shudder and opened his eyes for an instant. "Thank God, he is alive!" burst from Dan's lips. Then, noticing the blood trickling from Henry's temple, he bound up the young man's forehead with his handkerchief. In the meantime, Hank Stiger was making a détour, expecting to come up behind Dan and surprise him.
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