nger of a certain lawless element
in Paloma, the young engineers had understood fully that threats of
lynching them had not been idly made.

"There'll be a stir, though," Tom Reade muttered to himself. "The A. G.
& N. M. officials won't let this crime go by without a determined effort
to bring the offenders to justice. Detectives will search this community
in squads, and everyone of these masked gentlemen is likely to get his
deserts."

Within the next half hour the galloping horses had covered fully five
miles. Now the leader of the crowd led the way down into a deep gully in
the sand.

"Hold up, men," ordered the leader, and the cavalcade came to a stop,
horses panting.

"Tumble the cattle off into the dirt," was the next order, and it was
obeyed, Tom and Harry rolling in the bitter alkali dust.

"Now, gentlemen, I believe I will take command," spoke one of the
party of horsemen, in his most suave voice, as he removed his mask. The
speaker, as Reade knew at once, was Jim Duff, the gambler.

"That's all right, Jim," nodded the former leader.

"Jake, ride back a few hundred yards and keep a sharp lookout,"
suggested Duff blandly. "The pursuers may come in automobiles. We'll cut
the ceremonies here short and leave nothing but lifeless bodies for the
rescue parties to find."

Stakes were driven and the horses picketed.

"Bring along our guests," suggested Jim Duff, with a touch of humor that
the occasion rendered grisly.

Thereupon Tom and Harry were once more jerked to their feet.

"Ye can walk, I reckon, and don't have be toted," observed one of the
scoundrels.

"We're wholly at your service, sir," rejoined Tom mockingly.

"And equally at your pleasure," Harry suggested dryly.

Two hundred yards further on the halted close to a pair of stunted trees
of about the same size.

"Gentlemen, you may as well remove your masks on this hot evening,"
suggested Jim Duff. The face coverings came off. Reade and Hazelton
surveyed their captors as the chance offered, being careful not to
betray too great curiosity.

"I see one gentleman here whom I had expected to find," remarked Tom
quietly.

"Me?" hinted Duff.

"Well, yes; you, for one, but I refer to that excellent host, Mr. Ashby,
of the Mansion House."

With a start George Ashby turned on Reade, coming closer and grinning
ferociously into the face of the young chief engineer. Tom, however,
managed to muster a smile as he went on:

"How do you do, Mr. A