essed the utmost bewilderment. Before either of them
could speak the door was thrown open with great violence, and a
dishevelled and half-strangled man, dressed in a dingy blue jacket and a
pair of dirty leather trousers, was pitched into the room, with such
force that when he brought up against Zeke that worthy herdsman was
knocked out of his chair, and the two came to the floor together.

"What do you mean by such work as this?" demanded George, looking first
at the prostrate man and then toward the door, where stood Jake and Bob
with their hands clenched and their faces flushed with anger.

"Jest take a good squint at that feller's figger-head an' answer the
question for yourself, Mr. George," answered Jake, shaking his fist at
the man who had been so unceremoniously introduced into the room.--"Give
it to him good an' strong, Zeke!--Well! I'll--be--blessed!--Won't you,
Bob?"

This exclamation was called forth by an action on the part of George
Ackerman that astonished Jake and Bob beyond measure. Zeke had instantly
recognized the man who had so unexpectedly prostrated him, and, seizing
him by the back of the neck in his iron grasp, began shaking him as a
dog would shake a rat. George also recognized the man after he had taken
a second look at him, and springing forward he seized Zeke's arm and
tore his grasp loose. Then he assisted the man to his feet, and taking
his hand in his own shook it cordially.

"Well, I _will_ be blessed!" repeated Jake, who stood looking the very
picture of astonishment.--"Won't you, Bob?"

"I should say I would," replied the latter, who was equally amazed.
"That's something _I_ never expected to see--an Ackerman shaking hands
with a cattle-thief!"

"Springer," exclaimed George, "I am glad to see you again; and without
your crutches, too! I hope you have entirely recovered."

Yes, the man who had made his entrance into George's room in so unusual
a manner was Springer, whom we have often spoken of as the wounded
cattle-thief. He had, as we know, once been in the employ of George's
father; but proving to be utterly unfit for the position he held, Mr.
Ackerman had discharged him, and Springer had sought revenge by making
an unsuccessful effort to burn the ranche. Of course he could not stay
in Texas after that, so he fled across the river and joined his fortunes
with the Contra-Guerrillas, a regiment of desperadoes in the employ of
the ill-starred Maximilian. He belonged, with other re