There was a meeting in the thicket a few minutes later, and Bill was "out of the way" for the time being.

Wicker Bonner dropped him with a sledge-hammer blow, and when he returned to the cabin Bill was lying bound and gagged in the tent, a helpless captive.
His conqueror, immensely satisfied, supplied himself with the surplus ends of "guy ropes" from the tent and calmly sat down to await the approach of the one called Sam, he who had doubtless gone to a rendezvous "for news." He could well afford to bide his time.

With two of the desperadoes disposed of in ambuscade, he could have a fairly even chance with the man called Davy.
It seemed hours before he heard the stealthy approach of some one moving through the bushes.

He was stiff with cold, and chafing at the interminable delay, but the approach of real danger quickened his blood once more.

There was another short, sharp, silent struggle near the doorway, and once more Wicker Bonner stood victorious over an unsuspecting and now unconscious bandit.