rked Stranleigh.

"I guess that's the right title, but a man who brags so much of his
brains as you do, ought to see that if we're ready to shoot up a town,
we won't stop at such a trifle as brigandage."

"That's so. And now, gentlemen, I'm tired after my long journey, and I
think we've talked a great deal to very little purpose, so if you'll
show me what bunk I am to occupy, I'll turn in."

"There are six unused bunks, Mr. Stranleigh, and you can take your
choice. There's nothing mean about us."

Stranleigh made his selection, and rough as the accommodation was, he
slept as soundly as ever he had done in his London palace, or his
luxurious yacht.

Although the Earl of Stranleigh was naturally an indolent man, the
enforced rest of the next few days grew very irksome. He had expected
the guard set over him to relax as time went on, but this was not the
case. The genial Jim saw to that, and it was soon evident to Stranleigh
that Dean ruled his company with an iron hand. Such casual examination
of the premises as he was able to make impressed him more and more with
the difficulty of escape. Had the structure been built of logs, there
might have been some hope, but the imperviousness of the thick stone
walls was evident to the most stupid examiner. The place was lit in
daytime by two slits, one at each gable, which were without panes, and
narrow, so that they might as much as possible keep out the rain. No man
could creep through, even if he could reach the height at which they
were placed. During the day the stout door, fit to encounter a battering
ram, was open, but a guard sat constantly at the sill, with a rifle
across his knees. At night it was strongly locked. Stranleigh was
handicapped by the fact that heretofore he had never been required to
think out any difficult problem for himself. He had merely to give the
order, and other people did his thinking for him, and when a plan was
formed, there were others to carry it out, being well paid for doing so.
Thus it happened that the means of escape were so obvious that a ten
year old boy might have discovered them.

Each evening passed very pleasantly, for Stranleigh was a good
story-teller, and had many interesting tales to relate. In spite of the
fact that his gaolers were unanimous in their opinion that Stranleigh
was a useless encumbrance upon earth, they began rather to like him.
One night Stranleigh asked Jim if anything had yet been heard of Mr.
Armstrong, a