But if he had to meet death, he would meet it
unafraid.
The name of the ranch owner acted on the chief like an electric shock. He
leaped to his feet with a curse.
"So Melton sent you to spy on us, did he?" he demanded furiously.
"He did not," answered Bert.
There was a conviction in the tone that checked the headlong rush that
the captain had seemed about to make. He sat down again and pondered, his
face working with rage and apprehension. At last he reached a decision,
and Bert read in his eyes that his doom had been pronounced.
"It don't make no difference whether yer tellin' the truth or lyin'," he
snarled. "Ye've learned too much fur me to let yer live. If I turned yer
loose, ye'd have Melton and his bunch down on us in no time. Keep a close
watch on him, Red," he commanded as he rose to his feet. "I've got some
things to look after that'll keep me busy till dinner-time, and after
that we'll put this maverick where he won't do no more spyin'."
"How about breakfast?" asked Bert coolly. "You're not going to starve me
to death, are you?"
The outlaw looked at him with astonishment, not unmixed with a sort of
grudging admiration.
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