etters, for his lordship clearly had no scruple about
destroying them, and I knew few men whom I would have seen
behind prison-bars with as little personal regret. However, no
one had, so far as I could see, paid the slightest attention to
the pony, and the probabilities were that he was already headed
for Baldwin's ranch, with no likelihood of his stopping till he
reached home. At least that was what I hoped; but there were a
lot of ponies standing about, and, not knowing the markings of
the one I had ridden, I wasn't able to tell whether he might not
be among them.

Just as the fragments of the papers were passed over to Mr. Camp,
he was joined by Baldwin and the judge, and Camp held the torn
pieces up to them, saying,--

"They've torn the proxies in two."

"Don't let that trouble you," said the judge. "Make an affidavit
before me, reciting the manner in which they were destroyed, and
I'll grant you a mandamus compelling the directors to accept them
as bona-fide proxies. Let me see how much injured they are."

Camp unfolded the papers, and I chuckled to myself at the look of
surprise that overspread his face as he took in the fact that
they were nothing but section reports. And, though I don't like
cuss-words, I have to acknowledge that I enjoyed the two or three
that he promptly ejaculated.

When the first surprise of the trio was over, they called on the
sheriff, who arrived opportunely, to take us into 97 and search
the three of us,--a proceeding that puzzled Fred and his lordship
not a little, for they weren't on to the fact that the letters
hadn't been recovered. I presume the latter will some day write a
book dwelling on the favorite theme of the foreigner, that there
is no personal privacy in America, and I don't know but his
experiences justify the view. The running remarks as the search
was made seemed to open Fred's eyes, for he looked at me with a
puzzled air, but I winked and frowned at him, and he put his face
in order.

When the papers were not found on any of us, Camp and Baldwin
both nearly went demented. Baldwin suggested that I had never had
the papers, but Camp argued that Fred or Lord Ralles must have
hidden them in the car, in spite of the fact that the cowboys who
had caught them insisted that they couldn't have had time to hide
the papers. Anyway, they spent an hour in ferreting about in my
car, and even searched my two darkies, on the possibility that
the true letters had been passed