ds it, my one thought being to get back, if
possible, to the station, and put the letters into the railroad
agent's safe.

When I reached the main street I saw that my hope was futile, for
another batch of cowboys were coming in full gallop towards me,
very thoroughly heading me off in that direction. To escape them,
I headed up the street away from the station, with the pack in
close pursuit. They yelled at me to hold up, and I expected every
moment to hear the crack of revolvers, for the poorest shot among
them would have found no difficulty in dropping my horse at that
distance if they had wanted to stop me. It isn't a very nice
sensation to keep your ears pricked up in expectation of hearing
the shooting begin, and to know that any moment may be your
last. I don't suppose I was on the ragged edge more than thirty
seconds, but they were enough to prove to me that to keep one's
back turned to an enemy as one runs away takes a deal more pluck
than to stand up and face his gun. Fortunately for me, my
pursuers felt so sure of my capture that not one of them drew a
bead on me.

The moment I saw that there was no escape, I put my hand in my
breast-pocket and took out the letters, intending to tear them
into a hundred pieces. But as I did so I realized that to destroy
United States mail not merely entailed criminal liability, but
was off color morally. I faltered, balancing the outwitting of
Camp against State's prison, the doing my best for Madge against
the wrong of it. I think I'm as honest a fellow as the average,
but I have to confess that I couldn't decide to do right till I
thought that Madge wouldn't want me to be dishonest, even for
her.

I turned across the railroad tracks, and cut in behind some
freight-cars that were standing on a siding. This put me out of
view of my pursuers for a moment, and in that instant I stood up
in my stirrups, lifted the broad leather flap of the saddle, and
tucked the letters underneath it, as far in as I could force
them. It was a desperate place in which to hide them, but the
game was a desperate one at best, and the very boldness of the
idea might be its best chance of success.

I was now heading for the station over the ties, and was
surprised to see Fred Cullen with Lord Ralles on the tracks up
by the special, for my mind had been so busy in the last hour
that I had forgotten that Fred was due. The moment I saw him, I
rode towards him, pressing my pony for all he was wort