Dobe. And he led Dobe back to where Joshua was tied. He had forgotten
his victim on the floor, for a moment, but was aware of him when he
stumbled over him in the dark. The other mumbled and struggled faintly.

"I left your gun in the wagon-box," said Bartley. "I wouldn't move
around much, if I were you. One of the horses might step on your face
and hurt his foot."

Mr. Hull was not pleased at this, and he said as much. Bartley tied Dobe
to the back of the wagon.

"Just keep your eye on the horses a minute," he told Hull. "I'll be back
soon."

Bartley felt unusually and inexplicably elated. He had not realized the
extreme potency of mescal. The proprietor of the hotel was mildly
surprised when Bartley, remarking that he had been called away
unexpectedly, paid the hotel bill. Bartley hastened back to the stable.
Across the way the horses of the mountain men drowsed in the faint
lamplight. Turning, Bartley saw Joshua and Dobe dimly silhouetted in the
opening at the far end of the stable. Cheyenne was still in the saloon.

Bartley grinned. "It might help," he said as he stepped across the
street. Taking down the rope from the nearest horse, he tied the end of
the rope in the horse's bridle and threaded the end through the bridles
of all five horses, tying the loose end to the last horse's bridle.
"Just like stringing fish!" he murmured soulfully. "When those gentlemen
from the interior try to mount, there'll be something doing."

He had just turned to walk back to the stable when he heard a shot, and