"Let go yer guns, or, by God! we'll shoot you out of your saddles.
Boys! in upon 'em, and take their weepuns away!"
At the command several of the robbers spring their horses forward, and,
closing upon Clancy, seize him from all sides; others serving Jupiter
the same. Both see that resistance were worse than folly--sheer
insanity--and that there is no alternative but submit.
Their arms are wrested from them, though they are allowed to retain
possession of their animals. That is, they are left in their saddles--
compelled to stay in them by ropes rove around their ankles, attaching
them to the stirrup-leathers.
Whatever punishment awaits them, that is not the place where they are to
suffer it. For, soon as getting their prisoners secured, the band is
again formed into files, its leader ordering it to continue the march,
so unexpectedly, and to him satisfactorily, interrupted.