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“Oh, because—because you only got eight apples, and Mother said”— He had a match and if there was enough wood there was a chance. The planking of the door was dry and there was no reason why it would not catch. “Your bandits!” whispered Bob to Ted. The other boy nodded an assent. “Go on,” he urged the Indian..

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“Have you learned anything?” asked Bob quickly. “Pills?” said Aunt Grenertsen. “I have never taken pills in all my long life.” As he was revolving these things in his mind they came to an opening in the thick brush. It lay right on the edge of the river, close to which they had been traveling. Evidently it was the place that had been decided upon as his prison, for, almost screened by the encroaching scrub oaks, was an adobe hut. Bob could not imagine what it had been used for. As they approached it in the gathering gloom of night, it did not seem to have any opening except a door. No windows were visible from the direction in which they came and Bob doubted if there were any on the other side. “Traitor!” repeated Bob and then pulled his horse’s head around and struck hard with his quirt. In a flash his little horse was flying in the direction of home. It was a desperate chance he was taking, for he had read in the faces of the two men as he turned that they were determined that he should not get back to the dam with his suspicions confirmed. He knew that in running he braved possible death, for he had noticed that both men were armed. The sound of his horse’s hoofs and the rushing wind drowned the noise that would have told him whether he was being pursued or not. He was bending low in the saddle and it was hard to turn and see what had become of Jerry and his companions. But he managed it..