had been fired.

While I was still cogitating over this, the special train I had
ordered out from Flagstaff came in sight, and in a few moments
was stopped where I was. It consisted of a string of three flats
and a box car, and brought the sheriff, a dozen cowboys whom he
had sworn in as deputies, and their horses. I was hopeful that
with these fellows' greater skill in such matters they could find
what I had not, but after a thorough examination of the ground
within a mile of the robbery they were as much at fault as I had
been.

"Them cusses must have a dugout nigh abouts, for they couldn't
'a' got away without wings," the sheriff surmised.

I didn't put much stock in that idea, and told the sheriff so.

"Waal, round up a better one," was his retort.

Not being able to do that, I told him of the bullets in the
telegraph pole, and took him over to where the mail car had
stood.

"Jerusalem crickets!" was his comment as he measured the aim. "If
that's where they put two of their pills, they must have pumped
the other four inter the moon."

"What other four?" I asked.

"Shots," he replied sententiously.

"The road agents only fired four times," I told him.

"Them and your pards must have been pretty nigh together for a
minute, then," he said, pointing to the ground.

I glanced down, and sure enough, there were six empty
cartridge-shells. I stood looking blankly at them, hardly able to
believe what I saw; for Albert Cullen had said distinctly that
the train-robbers had fired only four times, and that the last
three Winchester shots I had heard had been fired by himself.
Then, without speaking, I walked slowly back, searching along
the edge of the road-bed for more shells; but, though I went
beyond the point where the last car had stood, not one did I
find. Any man who has fired a Winchester knows that it drops its
empty shell in loading, and I could therefore draw only one
conclusion,--namely, that all seven discharges of the Winchesters
had occurred up by the mail-car. I had heard of men supposing
they had fired their guns through hearing another go off; but
with a repeating rifle one has to fire before one can reload. The
fact was evident that Albert Cullen either had fired his
Winchester up by the mail-car, or else had not fired it at all.
In either case he had lied, and Lord Ralles and Captain Ackland
had backed him up in it.

CHAPTER V

A TRIP TO THE GRAND CANON

I stood pondering, for n