onsidered shocking bad form for an unarmed man to argue with one
who carries a repeating rifle. Kindly follow Miss Cullen." And,
leaning over, I struck his mule with the loose ends of my bridle,
starting it up the trail.

When we reached the cabin the deputy told me that he had made
Frederic strip and had searched his clothing, finding nothing. I
ordered Lord Ralles to dismount and go into the cabin.

"For what?" he demanded.

"We want to search you," I answered.

"I don't choose to be searched," he protested. "You have shown no
warrant, nor--"

I wasn't in a mood towards him to listen to his talk. I swung my
Winchester into line and announced, "I was sworn in last night as
a deputy-sheriff, and am privileged to shoot a train-robber on
sight. Either dead or alive, I'm going to search your clothing
inside of ten minutes; and if you have no preference as to
whether the examination is an ante- or post-mortem affair, I
certainly haven't."

That brought him down off his high horse,--that is, mule,--and I
sent the deputy in with him with directions to toss his clothes
out to me, for I wanted to keep my eye on Miss Cullen and her
brother, so as to prevent any legerdemain on their part.

One by one the garments came flying through the door to me.
As fast as I finished examining them I pitched them back,
except--Well, as I have thought it over since then, I have
decided that I did a mean thing, and have regretted it. But
just put yourself in my place, and think of how Lord Ralles
had talked to me as if I was his servant, had refused my
apology and thanks, and been as generally "nasty" as he could,
and perhaps you won't blame me that, after looking through his
trousers, I gave them a toss which, instead of sending them
back into the hut, sent them over the edge of the trail. They
went down six hundred feet before they lodged in a poplar, and
if his lordship followed the trail he could get round to them,
but there would then be a hundred feet of sheer rock between
the trail and the trousers. "I hope it will teach him to study
his Lord Chesterfield to better purpose, for if politeness
doesn't cost anything, rudeness can cost considerable," I
chuckled to myself.

My amusement did not last long, for my next thought was, "If
those letters are concealed on any one, they are on Miss Cullen."
The thought made me lean up against my mule, and turn hot and
cold by turns.

A nice situation for a lover!

CHAPTER VI

T