the sheriff
was almost smothered by the attentions showered on him. Laughing and
struggling and delighted by the surprise, the peace officer could not
get a word edgewise in the rapid-fire exclamations and questions which
were hurled at him from all sides.

But finally he could be heard as he extricated himself from the embraces
of his sisters.

"Well, well!" he cried, smiles wreathing his face as he stepped back to
get a good look at them. "You're a sight to make a sick man well! My,
Helen, but how you've grown! It's been five years since I saw you--and
you were only a schoolgirl in short dresses! And Mary hasn't grown a
bit older, not a bit," addressing the elder of the two. Then he turned to
the friend. "You must pardon me, Miss Ritchie," he said as he shook hands
with her. "But I've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time.
And I'm really surprised, too, because I didn't expect you all until the
next stage trip. I had intended meeting you at the train and seeing you
safely to Ford's Station, because the Apaches are out. I couldn't get
word to you in time for you to postpone your visit, so I was going to
take Charley and several more of the boys and escort you home."

Then he looked about for Charley, and found that person engaged in
conversation with Bill as the two examined the bullet-marked stage.

"Come here, Charley!" he cried, beckoning his friend to his side.
"Ladies, this is Charley Winter, and he is a real good boy for a puncher.
Charley, Miss Ritchie, my sisters Mary and Helen. I reckon you ladies are
purty well acquainted with Bill Howland by this time, but in case you
ain't, I'll just say that he is the boss driver of the Southwest, noted
locally for his oppressive taciturnity. I reckon you two boys don't need
any introducing," he laughed.

Then, while the conversation throbbed at fever heat, Bill suddenly
remembered and wheeled toward the sheriff.

"The Orphant!" he yelled in alarm, hoping to gain attention that way.

The sheriff and Charley wheeled, guns in hand, and leaped clear of the
women, their quick eyes glancing from point to point in search of the
danger.

"Where?" cried the sheriff over his shoulder at Bill.

"Down south, ahead of them fool punchers," Bill exclaimed. "He's only
got a little start on 'em. And they know he's there, too. That's why
they're looking for cows on a place cows never go."

Then he related in detail the occurrences of the past few hours, to the
sh