s soon as Bucks had returned
to the big town and, warned by his careful friend, he rarely went up
street except with a companion--most frequently with Scott himself.

As the day set for Rebstock's trial drew near, rumors were heard of a
jail delivery. The jail itself was a flimsy wooden affair, and so
crude in its appointments that any civilized man would have been
justified in breaking out of it.

Nor was Brush, the sheriff, much more formidable than the jail itself.
This official sought to curry favor with the townspeople--and that
meant, pretty nearly, with the desperadoes--as well as to stand well
with the railroad men; and in his effort to do both he succeeded in
doing neither.

Bucks was given a night trick on his old wire in the local station,
and in spite of the round of excitement about him settled down to the
routine of regular work. The constant westbound movement of
construction material made his duties heavier than before, but he
seemed able to do whatever work he was assigned to and gained the
reputation of being dependable, wherever put.

He had risen one night from his key, after despatching a batch of
messages, to stir the fire--the night was frosty--when he heard
an altercation outside on the platform. In another moment the
waiting-room door was thrown open and Bucks turned from the
stove, poker in hand, to see a man in the extremity of fear rush
into his lonely office.

The man, hatless and coatless and evidently trying to escape from some
one, was so panic-stricken that his eyes bulged from their sockets,
and his beard was so awry that it was a moment before Bucks recognized
his old acquaintance Dan Baggs.

"They are after me, Bucks," cried Baggs, closing the door in
desperation. "They will kill me--hide me or they'll kill me."

Before the operator could ask a question in explanation, almost before
the words were out of the frightened engineman's mouth, and with Bucks
pointing with his poker to the door, trying to tell Baggs to lock it,
the door again flew open and Bucks saw the face of a Front Street
confidence man bursting through it.

Bucks sprang forward to secure the door behind the intruder, but he
was too late even for that. Half a dozen more men crowded into the
room. To ask questions was useless; every one began talking at once.
Baggs, paralyzed with fear, cowered behind the stove and the
confidence man, catching sight of him, tried to crowd through the
wicket gate. As he sprang t