When he at length comes to describe the horrible mode in which their old comrade has perished, the Rangers are almost frenzied with rage, and it is with difficulty some of them can be withheld from breaking their given word, and tearing him limb from limb.
He makes appeal to them for mercy, stating that he himself had no part in that transaction; that, although they have found him among the Indians, he was only as their prisoner; and forced to fight along with them.
This is evidently untrue; but, false or true, it has the effect of pacifying his judges, so far, that the _lariat_ is left loose around his neck.
Further examination, and cross-examination, elicit other facts about the captured caravan--in short, everything, except the secret alliance between the Mexican officer and the Tenawa chief.

Not thinking of this--in truth, having no suspicion of it--his examiners do not put any questions about it; and, for himself, the wretch sees no reason to declare it, but the contrary.

He indulges in the hope of one day returning to the Del Norte, and renewing his relations with Colonel Gil Uraga.
"Comrades!" cries the Ranger captain, addressing himself to his men, as soon as the examination is concluded, "you all of you loved Walt Wilder--all who knew him ?" "We did! we did!" is the response feelingly spoken.

"So did I.

Well, he's dead, beyond a doubt.