e left in a semicircular detour
around the sleeping camp, the string of prisoners following as the
knotted trail ropes steered it.

Another hour of easting saw the crescent moon poising over the black
sky-line of the Elks, and it brought captors and captured to the end of
track of the railroad where there was a siding, with a half-dozen empty
material cars and Bromley's artillery special, the engine hissing softly
and the men asleep on the cab cushions.

Ballard cut his prisoners foot-free, dismounted them, and locked them
into an empty box-car. This done, the engine crew was aroused, the Maxim
was reloaded upon the tender, and the chief gave the trainmen their
instructions.

"Take the gun, and that locked box-car, back to Elbow Canyon," he
directed. "Mr. Bromley will give you orders from there."

"Carload o' hosses?" said the engineman, noting the position of the
box-car opposite a temporary chute built for debarking a consignment of
Fitzpatrick's scraper teams.

"No; jackasses," was Ballard's correction; and when the engine was
clattering away to the eastward with its one-car train, the waggon was
headed westward, with Blacklock sharing the seat beside Fitzpatrick,
Ballard lying full-length on his back in the deep box-bed, and the long
string of saddle animals towing from the tailboard.

At the headquarters commissary Blacklock tumbled into the handiest bunk
and was asleep when he did it. But Ballard roused himself sufficiently
to send a message over the wire to Bromley directing the disposal of the
captured cattle thieves, who were to be transported by way of Alta Vista
and the D. & U. P. to the county seat.

After that he remembered nothing until he awoke to blink at the sun
shining into the little bunk room at the back of the pay office; awoke
with a start to find Fitzpatrick handing him a telegram scrawled upon a
bit of wrapping-paper.

"I'm just this minut' taking this off the wire," said the contractor,
grinning sheepishly; and Ballard read the scrawl:

"D. & U. P. box-car No. 3546 here all O. K. with both side
doors carefully locked and end door wide open. Nothing inside
but a few bits of rope and a stale smell of tobacco smoke and
corn whiskey.

"BROMLEY."

XV

HOSPES ET HOSTIS

It was two days after the double fiasco of the cattle raid before
Ballard returned to his own headquarters at Elbow Canyon; but Bromley's
laugh on his friend and chief was only biding