"I imagine it is pretty serious so far as you are concerned," said Warden. "You're in about the tightest hole you've ever been in in your life. And it's up to me to get you out--or to leave you. Do you understand that?"
"Oh, quite," said Fletcher Hill, sardonically. "But--let me tell you at the outset--you won't find me specially easy to bargain with on that count--Mr. Buckskin Bill."
Bill Warden threw up his head with a gesture of open defiance. "I'm not doing any--bargaining," he said. "And as to arresting me--afterwards--you can do as you please. But now--just now--you are in my power, and you're going to play my game. Got that?"
"I can see myself doing it," said Fletcher Hill.
"Yes, you will do it." A sudden deep note of savagery sounded in Warden's voice. "Not to save your own skin, Mr. Fletcher Hill, but for the sake of--something more valuable than that--something more precious even than your cussed pride. You'll do it for the sake of the girl you're going to marry. And you'll do it--now."
Bill Warden's hand suddenly came forth and gripped him by the shoulder. "Damn you!" he said. "Do you think I want to save your life?"
The words were low, spoken with a concentrated passion more terrible than open violence. He looked closely into Hill's eyes, and his own were flaming like the eyes of a baited animal.
Hill looked straight back at him without the stirring of an eyelid. "Take your hand off me!" he said.
It was the word of the superior officer. Warden's hand fell as it were mechanically. There followed a tense silence.
Warden made a sharp movement. "I did it to save your life," he said. "You'd have died like a dog within ten seconds if I hadn't turned you back."
A curious expression crossed Hill's strong countenance. It was almost a smile of understanding. "I am--indebted to you--boss," he said, and with the words very calmly he took his revolver by the muzzle and held it out. "I surrender to you--without conditions."
Bill Warden gave a sharp start of surprise. For an instant he hesitated, then in silence he took the weapon and dropped it into his pocket. A moment longer he looked Fletcher Hill straight in the eyes, then swung upon his heel.
"We'll get out of this infernal hole straight away," he said, and, stooping, gripped his fingers upon a ridge of stone that ran close to the floor. The stone swung inward under his grasp, leaving a dark aperture gaping at his feet. Bill glanced backwards at his prisoner.