dared not communicate.

The night was warm. A fire flickered in the old fireplace, and around
its circle gathered nine bandits to count and gloat over the blood
money of their victim, as a miser might over his bags of gold. The
bottle passed freely round the circle, and with toast and taunt and
jeer the counting of the money was progressing. Suddenly, and with as
little warning as if they had dropped down from among the stars, five
Texas Rangers sprang through windows and doors, and without a word
a flood of fire frothed from the mouths of ten six-shooters, hurling
death into the circle about the fire. There was no cessation of the
rain of lead until every gun was emptied, when the men sprang back,
each to his window or door, where a carbine, carefully left, awaited
his hand to complete the work of death. In the few moments that
elapsed, the smoke arose and the fire burned afresh, revealing the
accuracy of their aim. As they reentered to review their work, two of
the bandits were found alive and untouched, having thrown themselves
in a corner amid the confusion of smoke in the onslaught. Thus they
were spared the fate of the others, though the ghastly sight of seven
of their number, translated from life into death, met their terrorized
gaze. Human blood streamed across the once peaceful hearth, while
brains bespattered life-sized figures in bas-relief of the Virgin Mary
and Christ Child which adorned the broad columns on either side of
the ample fireplace. In the throes of death, one bandit had floundered
about until his hand rested in the fire, producing a sickening smell
from the burning flesh.

As Don Ramon was released, he stood for a few moments half dazed,
looking in bewilderment at the awful spectacle before him. Then as the
truth gradually dawned upon him,--that this sacrifice of blood meant
liberty to himself,--he fell upon his knees among the still warm
bodies of his tormentors, his face raised to the Virgin in exultation
of joy and thanksgiving.

XI

THE PASSING OF PEG-LEG

In the early part of September, '91, the eastern overland express on
the Denver and Rio Grande was held up and robbed at Texas Creek. The
place is little more than a watering-station on that line, but it was
an inviting place for hold-ups.

Surrounded by the fastnesses of the front range of the Rockies,
Peg-Leg Eldridge and his band selected this lonely station as best
fitted for the transaction in hand. To the southwest l