yer come from? This yere is Matt Moore's outfit."

"From the Shoshone Desert, if you must know. I'll tell you the story
later. There's a wounded man under the canvas there. Come on, and
help me carry him inside."

Timmons, sputtering but impotent to resist, took hold reluctantly, and
the two together bore the helpless Cavendish through the deserted
office and up the stairs to the second floor, where he was comfortably
settled and a doctor sent for. The task was sufficiently strenuous to
require all the breath Timmons possessed, and he managed to repress his
eager curiosity until the wounded man had been attended to. Once in
the hall, however, and the door closed, he could no longer control
himself.

"Now see yere, Jim Westcott," he panted, one hand gripping the
stair-rail. "I've got ter know what's up, afore I throw open this yere
hotel to yer free use this-away. As a gineral thing I ain't 'round
huntin' trouble--I reckon yer know that--but this yere affair beats me.
What was it yer said about Bill Lacy?"

"He's under arrest, charged with cattle-stealing, abduction,
conspiracy, and about everything else on the calendar. Brennan's got
him, and likewise the evidence to convict."

"Good Lord! Is that so!"

"It is; the whole Mendez gang has been wiped out. Old Mendez has been
killed. The rest of the outfit, including Juan Cateras, are prisoners."

Timmons's eyes were fairly popping out of his head, his voice a mere
thread of sound.

"Don't that beat hell!" he managed to articulate. "Where's the
marshal?"

"Riding herd at a place they call Sunken Valley, about fifty miles
south of here. He and Moore have got ten or twelve Mexicans, and maybe
three hundred head of cattle to look after, until I can send somebody
out there to help him bring them in. Now that's all you need to know,
Timmons; but I've got a question or two I want to ask you. Come on
back into the office."

Miss Donovan sat in one of the chairs by the front window waiting. As
they entered she arose to her feet.

Westcott crossed the room and took her hand.

"He's all right," he assured her quickly, interpreting the question in
her eyes. "Tired from the trip, of course, but a night's rest will do
wonders. And now, Timmons," he turned to the bewildered landlord, "is
that man Enright upstairs?"

"The New York lawyer? No, he got frightened and left. He skipped out
the next day after you fellers got away. Bill wanted him to go alo