left behind and the great West with its
romance now faced him.

They came to the little town in time to see the gorgeous sunset from
this, the highest point of the Rockies, and especially to Myrtle, who
had traveled so little, was the sight impressive and awe inspiring.
There was a small but fairly good hotel in the place, and after supper
Patsy and Beth went out for a stroll, being much interested in the
dark-skinned Mexicans and still darker Indians who constituted far
the larger part of the population. The party had everywhere met with
respect from these people, who, although curious, were silent and
well-behaved; so Uncle John and the Major, deep in a political
argument on the hotel porch, had no thought of danger when they saw
the two girls start away arm in arm.

The sky was still aglow, although the sun had set, and in the subdued
light the coarse adobe huts and rickety frame dwellings were endowed
with a picturesque appearance they did not really possess. Beth and
Patsy came to the end of the main street rather suddenly, and stood a
moment looking at the shadows cast by the rocky cliffs near by. Some
of the peaks had snow upon them, and there was a chill in the air, now
that the sun had withdrawn its warmth. The girls turned presently and
took another route that might bring them quicker to the hotel, but had
only proceeded a short way when in passing a rather solitary adobe
structure a man stepped from the shadow of the wall and confronted
them. He wore a red flannel shirt and a broad sombrero, the latter
scarcely covering his dark, evil features.

The cousins stopped short. Then Beth whispered: "Let's go the other
way." But as they were about to turn the Mexican drew a revolver and
said in harsh, uneven English: "You halt. Keep a-still, or I shoot."

"What do you want?" asked Beth, quietly.

"Money. All you got. Jew'lry--all you got. Give 'm quick, or I shoot!"

As they stood hesitating a sound of footsteps was heard and someone
approached quickly from behind them. Patsy looked hurriedly around
and saw Wampus. He was walking with his thin little form bent and his
hands deep in his trousers pockets. Incidentally Wampus was smoking
the stub of a cigar, as was his custom when off duty.

The Mexican saw him, but marking his small size and mild manner did
not flinch from his position. With one revolver still leveled at the
girls he drew another from a hip pocket and turned it upon Wampus.

"You stop--halt!