Pachuca, surveying the small room
nonchalantly. "Don't you think it would be more practical to let me go? I
can't do any more harm to-day, you know."

"That's just what I don't know," replied Scott, quietly. "I know you can't
do any harm to anyone but yourself while you're locked up here, and I want
to turn you over in my mind a little."

"I'll make it worth your while to let me drive that car off the place
while you're all asleep," proposed Pachuca, smiling.

"You're a persuasive cuss, but we need that car."

"Going to do a little banditing on our own hook," put in O'Grady,
cheerfully.

"Shut up, Matt! We'll send you over some supper, Pachuca, and some bedding
by and by," and locking the door behind them, the two men went
downstairs.

"You think he can't slide out?" suggested Matt, doubtfully. "He's a crafty
devil."

"If he wants to risk breaking a bone or two jumping out of the window, let
him try," said Scott, easily. "How's Williams?"

"Pretty good. No bones broke and Mrs. Van bandaged him up. He's sore as
the devil about his stuff."

"We got a good deal of it back. We'll run the car down to the store and
see just what we did get." And Scott related Polly's adventure with much
enjoyment.

"She's a mighty game youngster," declared O'Grady, admiringly. "I didn't
know they raised 'em like that in the East."

"I'll swear I didn't. Lucky for His Nobs she didn't let a bullet into him
by mistake."

"Oh, I don't know. It's a case of 'eventually, why not now?'"

A search of the machine revealed the more important part of the loot--the
money taken from the safe in the office, Williams' cash box, and a good
many firearms, blankets and small items. Horses, saddles, bridles, canned
goods and innumerable other effects had been carried off by the horseback
riders, never to be regained, unless, as Scott suggested, Pachuca could be
traded off for them. And, of course, the mine would have to be closed down
until more workers could be obtained, rather an improbable thing in the
present state of the country.

"What beats me is, how did you happen to think of it?" demanded O'Grady of
Polly a little later as they sat around the dining-room table eating a
hastily improvised supper.

Polly chuckled. "Well, you see," she said, modestly, "we've been having a
lot of auto hold-ups in Chicago this winter and one of them happened to a
friend of mine.

"She and a friend were coming home from a party one afternoon, and when