hadn't
had the paperweight, all the thinking in the world wouldn't have done us
a bit of good."

"If you hadn't had the thinking, all the paperweights in the world
wouldn't have done us a bit of good," corrected Tom.

"Well, there's glory enough for all," smiled the conductor. "The main
point is that you fellows have put me and the company under a load of
gratitude and obligation that we can never repay. Call it quick thinking,
quick acting, or both--you turned the trick."

"It had to be a case of 'the quick or the dead,'" grinned Tom.

"Sure thing," assented the conductor. "You were the quick and those two
rascals are the dead. Or will be before long," he added grimly. "I'll
turn them over to the sheriff at the next station. There's a hand bill
in the baggage car describing a band of outlaws that the authorities of
three States have been after for a long time for robbery and murder, and
two of the descriptions fit these fellows to a dot. There's a price on
their heads, dead or alive, and I guess they've reached the end of their
rope in more senses than one."

He passed on and the boys relaxed in their seats. They were still under
the nervous strain of the stirring scene in which they had been the chief
actors. Tom's breath was coming fast and his eyes were shining.

Bert looked at him for a moment and then nudged Dick.

"Didn't I hear some one say a little while ago," he asked slyly, "that in
this little old United States there was too much civilization?"

"Yes," replied Dick, still quoting, "nothing ever happens nowadays."

CHAPTER II

The Ranch in the Rockies

With a great roar and rattle and clangor of bells, the train drew up at
the little station where the boys were to descend. Their long rail
journey of nearly three thousand miles was over, but they still had a
forty-mile drive before they would reach the ranch.

For a half hour previous they had been gathering their traps together and
saying good-by to their friends on the train. These last included all of
the travelers, who, since the capture of the robbers, had insisted on
making heroes of the boys. In vain they had protested that the thanks
were out of all proportion to the service rendered. The passengers
themselves knew better. And it was amid a chorus of the friendliest
farewells and good wishes that they had stepped to the rude platform of
the station.

"Not much of a metropolis about this," said Tom as they looked around.

"Hardl