nish off his signature with a flourish, I played a
pretty desperate card.

"You're just too late, gentlemen," I said, pointing out the side
window of the saloon. "There come the cavalry."

The three conspirators jumped to their feet and bolted for the window;
even the sheriff turned to look. As he did so I gave him a shove
toward the three which sent them all sprawling on the floor in a
pretty badly mixed-up condition. I made a dash for the door, and as I
went through it I grabbed the key and locked them in. When I turned to
do so I saw the lot struggling up from the floor, and, knowing that
it wouldn't take them many seconds to find their way out through the
window, I didn't waste much time in watching them.

Camp, Baldwin, and the judge had left their horses just outside the
saloon, and there they were still patiently standing, with their
bridles thrown over their heads, as only Western horses will stand.
It didn't take me long to have those bridles back in place, and as
I tossed each over the peak of the Mexican saddle I gave two of the
ponies slaps which started them off at a lope across the railroad
tracks. I swung myself into the saddle of the third, and flicked him
with the loose ends of the bridle in a way which made him understand
that I meant business.

Baldwin's cowboys had most of them scattered to the various saloons of
the place, but two of them were standing in the door-way of a store. I
acted so quickly, however, that they didn't seem to take in what I was
about till I was well mounted. Then I heard a yell, and fearing that
they might shoot--for the cowboy does love to use his gun--I turned
sharp at the saloon corner and rode up the side street, just in time
to see Camp climbing through the window, with Baldwin's head in view
behind him.

Before I had ridden a hundred feet I realized that I had a done-up
horse under me, and, considering that he had covered over forty miles
that afternoon in pretty quick time, it was not surprising that there
wasn't very much go left in him. I knew that Baldwin's cowboys could
get new mounts in plenty without wasting many minutes, and that then
they would overhaul me in very short order. Clearly there was no use
in my attempting to escape by running. And, as I wasn't armed, my only
hope was to beat them by some finesse.

Ash Fork, like all Western railroad towns, is one long line of
buildings running parallel with the railway tracks. Two hundred feet,
therefore, b