om
Duane to Longstreth were questioning, doubtful. Certainly Longstreth did
not look the part of an outlaw.

"Duane! Lord, I'm glad to see you," was the Captain's greeting. Then at
closer look into Duane's face his warmth fled--something he saw there
checked his enthusiasm, or at least its utterance.

"MacNelly, shake hand with Cheseldine," said Duane, low-voiced.

The ranger captain stood dumb, motionless. But he saw Longstreth's
instant action, and awkwardly he reached for the outstretched hand.

"Any of your men down here?" queried Duane, sharply.

"No. They're up-town."

"Come. MacNelly, you walk with him. We've ladies in the party. I'll come
behind with them."

They set off up-town. Longstreth walked as if he were with friends on
the way to dinner. The girls were mute. MacNelly walked like a man in a
trance. There was not a word spoken in four blocks.

Presently Duane espied a stone building on a corner of the broad street.
There was a big sign, "Rancher's Bank."

"There's the hotel," said MacNelly. "Some of my men are there. We've
scattered around."

They crossed the street, went through office and lobby, and then Duane
asked MacNelly to take them to a private room. Without a word the
Captain complied. When they were all inside Duane closed the door, and,
drawing a deep breath as if of relief, he faced them calmly.

"Miss Longstreth, you and Miss Ruth try to make yourselves comfortable
now," he said. "And don't be distressed." Then he turned to his captain.
"MacNelly, this girl is the daughter of the man I've brought to you, and
this one is his niece."

Then Duane briefly related Longstreth's story, and, though he did not
spare the rustler chief, he was generous.

"When I went after Longstreth," concluded Duane, "it was either to kill
him or offer him freedom on conditions. So I chose the latter for his
daughter's sake. He has already disposed of all his property. I believe
he'll live up to the conditions. He's to leave Texas never to return.
The name Cheseldine has been a mystery, and now it'll fade."

A few moments later Duane followed MacNelly to a large room, like a
hall, and here were men reading and smoking. Duane knew them--rangers!

MacNelly beckoned to his men.

"Boys, here he is."

"How many men have you?" asked Duane.

"Fifteen."

MacNelly almost embraced Duane, would probably have done so but for the
dark grimness that seemed to be coming over the man. Instead he glowed,
he spu