on of anger.
In my surprise at recognizing the voice as that of Lord Ralles, I
almost neglected to take care of myself; but, though he was quick
with his fists, I caught him by the wrists as he closed, and he
had no chance after that against a fellow of my weight.

"Oh, don't quarrel!" cried Miss Cullen.

Holding him, I said, "Lord Ralles, I overheard what Miss Cullen
was saying, and, supposing some man was insulting her, I acted as
I did." Then I let go of him, and, turning, I continued, "I am
very sorry, Miss Cullen, if I did anything the circumstances did
not warrant," while cursing myself for my precipitancy and for
not thinking that Miss Cullen would never have been caught in
such a plight with a man unless she had been half willing; for a
girl does not merely threaten to call for help if she really
wants aid.

Lord Ralles wasn't much mollified by my explanation. "You're too
much in a hurry, my man," he growled, speaking to me as if I were
a servant. "Be a bit more careful in the future."

I think I should have retorted--for his manner was enough to make
a saint mad--if Miss Cullen hadn't spoken.

"You tried to help me, Mr. Gordon, and I am deeply grateful for
that," she said. The words look simple enough set down here. But
the tone in which she said them, and the extended hand and the
grateful little squeeze she gave my fingers, all seemed to
express so much that I was more puzzled over them than I was over
the robbery.

CHAPTER IV

SOME RATHER QUEER ROAD AGENTS

"You had better come back to the car, Miss Cullen," remarked Lord
Ralles, after a pause.

But she declined to do so, saying she wanted to know what I was
going to telegraph; and he left us, for which I wasn't sorry. I
told her of the good news I had to send, and she wanted to know
if now we would try to catch the road agents. I set her mind at
rest on that score.

"I think they'll give us very little trouble to bag," I added,
"for they are so green that it's almost pitiful."

"In not cutting the wires?" she asked.

"In everything," I replied. "But the worst botch is their waiting
till we had just passed the Arizona line. If they had held us up
an hour earlier, it would only have been State's prison."

"And what will it be now?"

"Hanging."

"What?" cried Miss Cullen.

"In New Mexico train-robbing is not capital, but in Arizona it
is," I told her.

"And if you catch them they'll be hung?" she asked.

"Yes."

"That seem