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So Alfred arose and scrambled down to the bottom.

“Good-mornin’,” he observed, pleasantly.

He cast about him and discovered the man’s lariat, which he picked up and overran with one hand until he had loosened the noose.

“You-all are some sizable,” he remarked, in conversational tones, “an’ like enough you eats me up, if I gets clost enough to tie you. Hands up!”

With a deft twist and flip he tossed the open noose over his prisoner’s upheld wrists and jerked it tight.

“Thar you be,” he observed, laying aside his rifle.

He loosened one of his revolvers suggestively and approached to tie the knot.

“Swing her down,” he commanded. He contemplated the result. “Don’t like that nohow–tied in front. Step through your hands a whole lot.” The man hesitated. “Step, I say!” said Alfred, sharply, at the same time pricking the prisoner with his long knife.

The other contorted and twisted awkwardly, but finally managed to thrust first one foot, then the other, between his shackled wrists. Alfred bound together his elbows at the back.

“You’ll do,” he approved, cheerfully. “Now, we sees about grub.”

Two flat stones placed a few inches apart improvised a stove when fire thrust its tongue from the crevice, and a frying-pan and tin-cup laid across the opening cooked the outlaw’s provisions. Alfred hospitably ladled some bacon and coffee into their former owner.

“Not that I needs to,” he observed, “but I’m jest that tender-hearted.”

At the close of the meal, Alfred instituted a short and successful search for the plunder, which he found in the stranger’s saddle-bag, open and unashamed.

“Yo’re sure a tenderfoot at this game, stranger,” commented the sheriff. “Thar is plenty abundance of spots to cache such plunder–like the linin’ of yore saddle, or a holler horn. Has you any choice of cayuses for ridin’?” indicating the grazing ponies.

The man shook his head. He had maintained a lowering silence throughout all these cheerful proceedings.

Alfred and his prisoner finally mounted and rode northwest. As soon as they had scrambled up the precipitous side of the gully, the affair became a procession, with the stranger in front, and the stranger’s second pony bringing up an obedient rear. Thus the robber was first to see a band of Sioux that topped a distant rise for a single instant. Of course, the Sioux saw him, too. He communicated this discovery to Alfred.

“Well,” said Alfred, “they ain’t hostile.”

“These yere savages is plenty hostile,” contradicted the stranger, “and don’t you make no mistake thar. I jest nat’rally lifts that pinto offen them yisterday,” and he jerked his thumb toward the black-and-white pony in the rear.

“And you camps!” cried Alfred, in pure astonishment. “You must be plumb locoed!”

“I ain’t had no sleep in three nights,” explained the other, in apology.

Alfred’s opinion of the man rose at once.

“Yo’ has plumb nerve to tackle a hold-up under them circumstances,” he observed.

“I sets out to git that thar stage; and I gits her,” replied the agent, doggedly.

The savages appeared on the next rise, barely a half-mile away, and headed straight for the two men.

“I reckon yere’s where you takes a hand,” remarked Alfred simply, and, riding alongside, he released the other’s arms by a single slash of his knife. The man slipped from his horse and stretched his arms wide apart and up over his head in order to loosen his muscles. Alfred likewise dismounted. The two, without further parley, tied their horses’ noses close to their front fetlocks, and sat down back to back on the surface of the prairie. Each was armed with one of the new 44-40 Winchesters, just out, and with a brace of Colt’s revolvers, chambering the same-sized cartridge as the rifle.

“How you heeled?” inquired Alfred.

The stranger took stock.

“Fifty-two,” he replied.

“Seventy for me,” vouchsafed Alfred. “I goes plenty organised.”

Each man spread a little semicircle of shells in front of him. At the command of the two, without reloading, were forty-eight shots.

When the Indians had approached to within about four hundred yards of the white men they paused. Alfred rose and held his hand toward them, palm outward, in the peace sign. His response was a shot and a chorus of yells.