“Sorry about my men. They can’t seem to follow orders,” he said, as if there was nothing unusual about Trapper being tied up.

Trapper stilled. “Those are my horses. Take them and be gone and I won’t shoot you.”

The thin cowboy hiccupped a laugh and asked, “How you gonna shoot us? Your hands are tied and you don’t have a gun.” He tapped the barrel of his rifle against the back of Trapper’s head.

The leader shrugged, as if not interested in anything the thin cowboy said. “I didn’t spend two weeks tracking you just to take the horses. You insult me by even thinking I’m a horse thief. That’s not what I came for.”

Trapper saw no gun on the man. He might give the orders, but he wasn’t a fighter.

“I heard you fought for the South, Trapper. Thought I’d make you an offer. One chance, you might say, from one soldier to another.”

“You’re here for the girls.” Trapper made a statement. He wasn’t asking a question.

“Yes, we are. We’re not going to hurt them. They’re worth too much alive. We just plan to keep them until their papa gives us enough money. Then we’ll give them back, take the money, and head for California.”

“I’m not turning them over.” Trapper steadied himself. He sensed another man was standing back in the fog even though he could not see him. Once the shooting started, Trapper had to get two, maybe three, before they killed him. The man hidden in the fog was a wild card in this deadly game they played.

The three who’d beat him up were not ready for a gunfight. They’d done their job of beating him. The man in the fog might be the assigned killer.

Trapper put his palms together and twisted hard on the wet rope. It gave just enough to slip one hand out.

The short man was too busy making his point to notice. “Now think about it, Reb. You can get on your black devil of a horse and ride away, or you can die right here. Either way is fine with me.” He smiled. “Either way we take the girls.”

Trapper figured if he could bide his time a little longer, the sun would burn away some of the fog and his chances would be better. “What’s in this for me? I’d already be dead if you didn’t want something else from me. So, tell me what you want.”

The outlaw leader laughed. “You’re right. The old man at the trading post told us you were well-armed and you bought more. I only see one rifle on you, which means the others are in the wagon.”

“They are.” Trapper saw no reason to deny what they already knew.