im," said the man who had shouldered the door down, "you stay
here till the wagon comes. Bill and I will look around when he gets
back. Guess the other one made for the line. Don't know how he worked
it. Keep the crowd out."

"Is he all in?" queried the officer.

"No; he's breathin' yet. But he ain't got long. He's a young bird to
be a killer."

Late that afternoon Pete was taken from the Emergency to the General
Hospital. Lights were just being turned on in the surgical ward and
the newsboys were shouting an extra, headlining a border raid by the
Mexicans and the shooting of a notorious bandit in El Paso.

The president of the Stockmen's Security and Savings Bank bought a
paper as he stepped into his car that evening and was driven toward
home. He read the account of the police raid, of the escape of one of
the so-called outlaws, the finding of the murdered man near Sanborn,
and a highly colored account of what was designated as the invasion of
the United States territory by armed troops of Mexico.

Four thousand dollars in gold had been delivered to him personally that
day by the express company--a local delivery from a local source.
"Jim's man," he said to himself as the car passed through the Plaza and
turned toward the eastern side of the town. Upon reaching home the
president told his chauffeur to wait. Slitting an envelope he wrapped
the paper and addressed it to James Ewell, Showdown, Arizona.

"Mail it at the first box," he said. "Then you can put the car up. I
won't need it to-night."

The surgeon at the General Hospital was bending over Pete. The surgeon
shook his head, then turning he gave the attendant nurse a few brief
directions, and passed on to another cot. As the nurse sponged Pete's
arm, an interne poised a little glittering needle. "There's just a
chance," the surgeon had said.

At the quick stab of the needle, Pete's heavy eyes opened. The little
gray-eyed nurse smiled. The interne rubbed Pete's arm and stepped
back. Pete's lips moved. The nurse bent her head. "Did--Ed"--Pete's
face twitched--"make it?"

"You mustn't talk," said the nurse gently. And wishing with all her
heart to still the question that struggled in those dark, anxious eyes,
she smiled again. "Yes, he made it," she said, wondering if Ed were
the other outlaw that the papers had said had escaped. She walked
briskly to the end of the room and returned with a dampened towel and
wiped the dank sweat