ind his back, and his feet were tied under the
horse from stirrup to stirrup, while his horse was controlled by a lead
rope, one end of which was made fast to Yavapai Joe's saddle horn.

Patches caught sight of the two under the tree as he came through the
gate, but he gave no sign that he had noticed them. As the little
procession moved slowly nearer, Phil and Kitty looked at each other
without a word, but as they turned again to watch the approaching
horsemen, Kitty impulsively grasped Phil's arm. And sitting so, in such
unconscious intimacy, they must have made a pleasing picture; at least
the man who rode behind Nick Cambert seemed to think so, for he was
trying to smile.

When the riders were almost within speaking distance of the pair under
the tree, they stopped; and the watchers saw Joe turn his face toward
Patches for a moment, then look in their direction. Nick Cambert did not
raise his head. Patches came on toward them alone.

As they saw that it was the man's purpose to speak to them, Phil and
Kitty rose and stood waiting, Kitty with her hand still on her
companion's arm. And now, as they were given a closer and less
obstructed view of the man who had been their friend, Kitty and Phil
again exchanged wondering glances. This was not the Honorable Patches
whom they had known so intimately. The man's clothing was soiled with
dirt, and old from rough usage, with here and there a ragged tear. His
tall form drooped with weariness, and his unshaven face, dark and deeply
tanned, and grimed with sweat and dirt, was thin and drawn and old, and
his tired eyes, deep set in their dark hollows, were bloodshot as though
from sleepless nights. His dry lips parted in a painful smile, as he
dismounted stiffly and limped courteously forward to greet them.

"I know that I am scarcely presentable," he said in a voice that was as
worn and old as his face, "but I could not resist the temptation to say
'Howdy'. Perhaps I should introduce myself though," he added, as if to
save them from embarrassment. "My name is Lawrence Knight; I am a deputy
sheriff of this county." A slight movement as he spoke threw back his
unbuttoned jumper, and they saw the badge of his office. "In my official
capacity I am taking a prisoner to Prescott."

Phil recovered first, and caught the officer's hand in a grip that told
more than words.

Kitty nearly betrayed her secret when she gasped, "But you--you said
that you--"

With his ready skill he s