"Shall we shoot them here and now?" whispered Ashby, a wild light
glittering in his eyes.
"No," returned Duff. "We'll sneak up behind them, club them with
revolvers and carry, them off. Then we can do as we please with them.
You quiet Hazelton and I'll attend to Reade."
The two scoundrels crept up behind their victims.
A moment later Duff quickly cut the lariat about the neck of Tom Reade,
who had been rendered unconscious from the terrific blow dealt him by
the gambler. Ashby had been equally successful in "quieting" Hazelton.
"Now hustle," ordered Duff. "You pick up Hazelton. I'll take Reade.
Carry 'em over your shoulder--that's the way to do. Now, follow me and
don't make a sound. We'll please ourselves this night with what we'll
do to the meddling pair!"
With Tom Reade over his shoulder, senseless and inert, Duff started off
in the darkness, while the rattle of firearms continued.
George Ashby, muttering to himself, followed with Harry Hazelton.
The gambler staggered slightly under the weight of his human burden.
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