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"You got me, boys."

She could scarcely recognize Deveril's voice; at first she thought that it was one of the other men speaking.

"That's sensible." That was Billy Winch. Again he loosened his rope.

"I guess," Deveril went on quietly, "that the three of you, jumping me like that, regular Standing sneak-style, can lead me down to Gallup's. Or, if you care to let me up, I'll save you the trouble, and will go without your help."

"That's your promise?" queried Winch.

"Yes ... damn you."

"That's fair. Let him go, boys."

The two men holding him down, got to their feet and went back to their horses as if, their bit of work done, they had lost all interest, as perhaps they had. Deveril got to his feet and cast the rope off. Winch drew it in, coiled it, and tied it at his saddle strings.

"Most any time now," he said casually. "He's on his way and due in a dozen minutes. All you got to do is listen for him!"

Deveril stood, both arms stiffening at his sides, his head lifted high, looking straight at Winch.