"Bully for you. Run her in."
The red machine, with Ted still lying in the bottom, ran into a large
yard, and the gate was closed again, and the car was stopped in front of
the house.
"Come, help me carry him in," said the man in the car. "He'll be coming
around all right in a few minutes, then we may have some trouble with
him, for he's the very devil to fight."
Ted was dragged out of the car in no gentle manner, and carried into the
house, which was unlighted save where the moonlight shone through the
windows.
"Into the strong room with him," said the man of the house.
Ted was carried into a room and dumped upon a lounge. Then a light was
struck, and both men bent over the prostrate form of the leader of the
broncho boys.
Both of them started back.
"Whew! You must have given him an awful dose, Checkers," said the man of
the house.
"Had to do it, Dude. If I hadn't, I'd never got him here, that's a
cinch."
"Well, get his gun off before he comes to."
Ted was stripped of his weapons, a glass of water was thrown into his
face, and he began to regain consciousness.
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