"The tramp!" ejaculated Cook looking at Chip with amazement.

"The same, at your service, Mr. Cook, for that is your name, isn't it?"

"I'm caught," confessed the puzzled Cook. "What are you making game of
me for? What do you want me for?"

"Nothing, nothing. We were afraid you might prolong your anticipated
visit to such a length that we grew homesick for you, so I got some of
the boys together, a sort of a picnic, you know, to ask you not to stay
too long," bantered Chip. "We really can't take 'no' for an answer, Mr.
Cook, really you must consider our feelings and return with us."

"I guess I can't help myself," said Cook grimly.

"It does look a little that way, don't it?"

Cook shook his head as he arose to his feet, and stooping over his dead
horse unloosed the girth and drew off the saddle, nor did he make any
objection when Chip secured his revolver and ammunition belt. Escape was
entirely cut off from him and he accepted his capture in a resigned
spirit, because he could not help himself.

"Brodey, how far is the railroad from here?"

"About fifteen miles over thar," pointing toward the east, "Blue Jacket
lies thar, and is on the Missouri, Kansas and Texas."

"We'll make for it. You take the prisoner behind you and I will mount