The instant the space was sufficient, I forced the door shut, and stood with my back against it, the black muzzle of my Colt staring them in the eyes.
"Hands up, gentlemen!" I said sternly, "a movement means death." They presented two astounded faces, Hardy's absolutely blank, so complete his surprise, but Le Gaire recognized me instantly, his mouth flying open, his eyes glaring.
"Good God!--you!" "Yes; hands up, Le Gaire! Don't be a fool." His dark complexion was yellow with pallor, and I knew him for a coward at heart, yet his very hatred of me made him dangerous.

Hardy was different, realizing his helplessness, but eying me coolly, his hands held over his head.
"What does all this mean ?" he asked quietly.

"Who the devil are you ?" "He's that damned Yank Billie's been so interested in," broke out the captain, "the same fellow who knocked me off my horse at Jonesboro." Major Hardy glanced toward his daughter inquiringly, but before she could utter a word in explanation I cut in: "This has nothing to do with Miss Hardy.

She is as much a prisoner as you are.

Now, Captain, hand me your revolver--butt first, please.