H. Bedford-Jones

“ CHAPTER IX ALL that night coyotes howled dismally upon the hills; and Ramsay, stretched out beside Sagebrush near the "hole in the wall," wakened from time to time at their almost human cries.
The scheme proposed by the old desert rat was simple and promised to be highly effective. It had only one drawback, common to all human propositions—it failed to take into account the dispensations of Providence, not anticipating the unexpected.
The misty gray darkness that precedes dawn was over everything when Ramsay, on watch, wakened Sagebrush, and the desert rat sat up, shivering. ”

“ The scowling Mexican deposited his own pistol and those of the others in the dust.
"Now step forward!" Ramsay rose, rifle at his shoulder. "Step forward, please! All three—that's right. Walk right through the hole in the wall, and don't walk too fast. The hand is quicker than the foot, gentlemen. Now into the hole—you first, Señor Ximines, then Cholo Bill, and Mr. Emery last. Close together, and slowly."
He strode forward as the three came to the passage that gave on to the outer cañon. ”

“ In silence they obeyed the mandate, but their faces were eloquent as they dropped the rifles and elevated their arms.
"Tom Emery," continued Ramsay, his voice cool and deadly in its slight drawl, "you and Cholo Bill are wanted for the murder of Alec Ramsay last year. Ximines, you can come along on general principles. You take your own pistol and drop it overboard, then relieve your two friends of their weapons. Leave 'em all in a pile. ”

“ By glory, we haven't done so badly so far, either! Three of them done for now. They came asking for it, and they got it. If things work right, I'll get these last three scoundrels alive—ah! They're coming, all right. ”