would have hard work reforming
them; and finally, he made her promise that she would not mention to
anyone what he had told her, because it wouldn't be safe for him, or
for her, if they ever got to hear of it. After that Andy also took the
trail to town, and he went at a gallop and smiled as he rode.

Miss Martin reflected shudderingly upon the awful details of the
crime, as hinted at by Andy, and packed her trunk. It might be brave
and noble to stay and work among all those savages, but she doubted
much whether it were after all her duty. She thought of many ways in
which she could do more real good nearer home. She had felt all along
that these cowboys were an untrustworthy lot; she had noticed them
glancing at one another in a secret and treacherous manner, all
through the last meeting, and she was positive they had not given her
that full confidence without which no good can be accomplished. That
fellow they called Happy looked capable of almost any crime; she had
never felt quite safe in his presence.

Miss Martin pictured them howling and dancing around the burning
dwellings of their enemies, shooting every one they could see; Miss
Martin had imagination, of a sort. But while she pictured the horrors
of an Indian massacre she continued to pack her suit-case and to
consult often her watch. When she could do no more it occurred to her
that she would better see if someone could take her to the station.
Fortunately for all concerned, somebody could. One might go further
and say that somebody was quite willing to strain a point, even, in
order to get her there in time for the next train.

* * * * *

The Happy Family was gathered in Rusty Brown's place, watching Irish
do things to a sheep-man from Lonesome Prairie, in a game of pool.
They were just giving vent to a prolonged whoop of derision at the
sheep-man's play, when a rig flashed by the window. Weary stopped with
his mouth wide open and stared; leaned to the window and craned to see
more clearly.

"Mama mine!" he ejaculated incredulously. "I could swear I saw Miss
Verbena in that rig, with her trunk, and headed towards the depot.
Feel my pulse, Cadwolloper, and see if I'm normal."

But Pink was on his way to the back door, and from there climbed like
a cat to the roof of the coal-house, where, as he knew from
experience, one could see the trail to the depot, and the depot
itself.

"It's sure her," he announced. "Chip's driv