"There goes Tom Mason, the boy that robbed his uncle of five thousand
dollars!"

He would go West, to Texas, and when he had lived over a good portion of
his life, he would write to his uncle and ask him if he might return.

Now, bear in mind that this is what I heard from Tom's lips, after I
became so well acquainted with him that he thought it advisable to tell
me his story. I don't say that I advised him to stay out there in that
lawless country among those lawless folks, for I didn't. I advised him
to go home and "live it down"; but Tom was plucky and wouldn't budge an
inch. Perhaps you will wonder, too, how it came about that a cowboy who
never heard of Mark Coleman, Duke Hampton, and the rest should come upon
Tom Mason in time to write the continuation of his story--a sequel that
the boys in Mississippi knew nothing about until long after it occurred.
All I can say is it just happened so.

CHAPTER III.

TOM BEGINS HIS WANDERINGS.

"Joe, I will give this valise and gun into your care, and will thank you
to see that they are restored to their owners. I know you will do this
much for me, for it is the last favor I shall ask of you."

"I took the articles in question as Tom handed them to me, and when I
raised my eyes to look at him, he was gone. He had jumped past me,
dashed out of the passage, and disappeared into the bushes before I
could say a word to him."

And that was the last that Joe Coleman ever saw of Tom Mason for long
years to come. He was friendless and alone--how very much alone he never
knew until by skilful dodging he managed to get on the outskirts of the
body of settlers that were closing up around Luke Redman and his gang,
and found himself beyond the reach of capture. His face was very pale,
but he went about his business as though he knew what he was doing. It
was very strange that a boy who had servants to wait on him at every
turn--one to saddle his horse, another to black his boots, and still
another to serve up his lunch when he got hungry--should have been
willing to set off on an expedition by himself, but it showed that he
knew nothing of the world before him.

Having satisfied himself by the sound of the horns and the baying of the
dogs that he was out of danger, Tom paused long enough to transfer his
roll of money from his trousers pocket to his boot-leg. He had about
fifty dollars that was all his own, and as he did not wish to lose it,
he put it where he thought it w