again fit for
duty, had sprung from his bed, dictated certain letters, wired
important news to the chief quartermaster at Omaha, demanded of the
railway authorities an engine and caboose to bear him over the
newly-completed mountain division to Cheyenne, had taken every cent from
his private safe, had entered his office at an early hour, satchel and
safe key in hand, was confounded by the sight of two clerks there
smoking forbidden pipes, and turning, without a word, had fled. One of
these was the young man who so recently had written to a confidant in
Omaha, telling of Burleigh's queer doings and his own desire to get from
underneath.

It transpired later that Burleigh went back to the bank, presented a
check for the balance to his credit and demanded currency, but the
cashier had become alarmed by the investigations made by the General and
had temporized--said he must consult the president, and asked the major
to call two hours later, whereat Burleigh had taken alarm. He was
looking ghastly, said the cashier. It was apparent to every one that
mentally, bodily, or both, the lately debonair and successful man of
the world had "lost his grip."

And before even the swift-running engine could have landed the fugitive
in Cheyenne, the truth was known. The package purporting to contain ten
thousand dollars in currency for the payment of the workmen at Warrior
Gap, sealed in Burleigh's office and sent at incredible risk by the
hands of a young cavalry officer, with only ten troopers through the
Indian lines, borne intact to the commanding officer of the new post,
though its gallant guardians had run the gauntlet at the cost of the
blood of more than half their number, was found when opened to hold
nothing but waste paper. Then indeed was explained Burleigh's
insistence. Then indeed was apparent why he had not pressed his charges
against the officer who had publicly horsewhipped him. Then indeed was
explained why good old John Folsom had withdrawn so large a sum in cash
from his bank and how Burleigh was enabled to replace what he himself
had taken. Then did it begin to dawn on people where Hank Birdsall,
"The Pirate of the Plains," as he had been alliteratively described, had
got the "straight tip" which enabled him to instantly enlist the
services of so many outlawed men in a desperate game. Gradually as the
whole scheme became evident and the truth leaked out, Gate City woke up
to a pitch of pious fury against its late p