"The fellow takes it pretty coolly," remarked Durand, lighting a fresh
cigarette. "What are you going to do with him ?"
"We will take him to his own place--it is near--and coax the papers out
of him; then we'll find a precipice and toss him over. It is a simple
matter."
Zmai handed Chauvenet the revolver he had taken from the silent man on
the horse.
"I am ready," he reported.
"Go ahead; we follow;" and they started toward the bungalow, Zmai riding
beside the captive and holding fast to the led-horse. Where the road was
smooth they sent the horses forward at a smart trot; but the captive
accepted the gait; he found the stirrups again and sat his saddle
straight. He coughed now and then, but the hemp sack was sufficiently
porous to give him a little air. As they rode off his silent submission
caused Durand to ask:
"Are you sure of the man, my dear Jules?"
"Undoubtedly. I didn't get a square look at him, but he's a gentleman by
the quality of his clothes. He is the same build; it is not a plow-horse,
but a thoroughbred he's riding. The gentlemen of the valley are in their
beds long ago.
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