'Turn your horse, my friend, or take the consequences.' He turned like a lamb, and headed down the valley again, without giving a thought to his pistols.

I kept close to him, and in less than a minute we had left the Devil's Chapel well behind us, and were moving down again as we had come up.

Only now I held the gun.
When we had gone have a mile or so--until then I did not feel comfortable myself, and though I thanked heaven that the place existed, I thanked heaven also that I was out of it--I bade him halt.
'Take off your belt,' I said curtly, 'and throw it down.

But, mark me, if you turn I fire.' The spirit was quite gone out of him, and he obeyed mechanically.

I jumped down, still covering him with the gun, and picked up the belt, pistols and all.