“Yes, sir,” said Luke Redman, who seemed to grow more and more elated the longer he thought of his new idea, “that’s the way I’ll bring you down from thar. Now, will you give up the money? I promise that you can go whar you please, an’ nobody shan’t bother you.”

“What’s the promise of a man like you worth?” I inquired. “I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw a church-house.”

“Take your time, an’ think it over,” said Luke; “but b’ar one thing in mind while you are about it, an’ that is, that I mean all I say.”

There was no doubt about that. Luke Redman was a desperate character, and money would tempt him to any deed of atrocity.

We stepped back from the window and 266looked at one another in blank amazement. I knew my face was pale, for the blood went rushing back upon my heart, and set it to beating like a trip-hammer. Tom was as white as a sheet, and that added to my terror. He had shown himself to be possessed of a remarkable degree of courage, and I knew that when he became frightened, there was good reason for it.

We were in a terrible predicament. If we remained in our prison, we would certainly lose our lives, and if we surrendered ourselves into the hands of our enemies, we would fare but little better, for they were almost beside themselves with fury, and we could expect nothing but the severest treatment. Seventy blows with a rawhide would be a light punishment, compared with the vengeance they would wreak upon us.

“Well, Tom,” said I, “this is the end of your plan.”

“It looks like it,” he answered, “and of us too. We have our choice between burning up and allowing ourselves to be pounded to death. This is infinitely worse than running a race 267with the hounds. Which horn of the dilemma shall we take, Joe?”

“Let’s stay where we are, and trust to luck,” I replied, desperately. “Something may turn up in our favor. The logs in the house may prove too green to burn, or the settlers may arrive before the fire gets fairly started.”

“That’s a fact. We’ll risk it, anyhow.”

“Hear me up thar, don’t you?” shouted Luke Redman, who had grown tired of waiting for an answer to his question. “What are you goin’ to do about it?”

“Bring on your kindling-wood,” was Tom’s reply. “We’ll stay here.”

“Wal!” shouted Luke, who seemed utterly confounded at the decision we had made. “Do you want to stay thar an’ be burned up?”

“Go and find the shavings, Barney,” shouted Tom. “Hunt up the matches, Jake. Set the old thing a-going, and let’s have a bonfire. Hurrah for the Fourth of July! You’ll find us the pluckiest cubs you ever tried to smoke out.”

“I’ll see how much pluck you have got,” retorted Luke, “an’ if I don’t make you sick of 268your bargain afore you are many minutes older, I’m a Dutchman! I’ll bet you’ll be glad enough to come out o’ thar.”

Luke had no doubt imagined that we could be easily frightened into compliance with his wishes, and, as a sailor would say, he was “taken all aback” by our answer.

It was some time before he recovered himself; but rage got the better of his astonishment at last, and, without saying a word, he beckoned to his boys, and went into the house.

They were gone about ten minutes, and when they came out again, they carried their blankets and a few other articles of value under their arms, and the expression on their faces told us what they had done.

“The kindlin’ wood is found, an’ so be the matches,” said Luke Redman, with a fiendish grin. “The bonfire will be goin’ directly, ’cause them logs is dry, an’ will burn like tinder. Better come out o’ thar.”

Tom and I looked down at the cabin, and saw a thin wreath of smoke come curling out. It increased in volume every moment, and was finally followed by a sheet of flame. Then we 269heard a great roaring and crackling below us, and the planks in the door began to feel hot to the touch. The house was really on fire.

“You see that I am not foolin’ with you, I reckon,” said Luke. “You may know that I am bound to have that money, if I am willing to burn my house to get it. Do you guess you’ll have pluck enough to stand it?”

“Do you guess you have pluck enough to stand before the buckshot in these guns?” asked Tom. “We have seen enough of you, and you had better dig out. We’ll give you just a minute to clear the ground, and if there’s one of you in sight at the end of that time, he’ll get hurt. Hear me, don’t you?”

Tom cocked his gun as he said this, and rested the weapon on the window-sill, the muzzle pointed down at Luke Redman’s breast.

That worthy stepped out of range very quickly, and gazed after his boys, who, taking Tom at his word, whistled to the dogs, and made the best of their way into the cane.

“You had better go, too, Luke,” said my companion. “Time’s almost up.”

He turned the muzzle toward the outlaw 270again, and the latter, beginning to see very plainly he was in a dangerous neighborhood, followed after the boys, and quickly disappeared from our view.

“I had an object in sending them away,” exclaimed Tom. “Don’t you see that the smoke from the fire is settling toward the ground? When it gets thick enough to conceal our movements, we’ll drop down from this window, and take to our heels. I know it is a desperate plan, but we are not going to stay here and be roasted.”

During all this time the fire had been gathering rapid headway, and now great sheets of flame began to shoot toward the sky, and dense volumes of smoke rolled past the window. It gradually filled our prison, too, and before many minutes passed, we could see the flames shining through the cracks in the door.

And this was not the worst of it. Luke Redman and his boys must have suspected the plan we had determined upon, for as soon as the smoke concealed the window, they came out of their hiding-places, and the sound of their voices told us that they had stationed 271themselves at the foot of the cliff, to cut off our escape.

Our situation was becoming really alarming. The smoke filled our prison until we could scarcely breathe; the air was hot and a............