them the letters at
once."

"Oh, do, Mr. Gordon," said Madge, still white and breathless with
emotion. "The money is nothing. Don't think--" It was all she could
say.

I felt pretty small, but with Camp and Baldwin, now reinforced by
Judge Wilson, I went to the station, ordered the agent to open the
safe, took out the three letters, and handed them to Mr. Camp,
realizing how poor Madge must have felt on Hance's trail. It was a
pretty big take down to my pride I tell you, and made all the worse by
the way the three gloated over the letters and over our defeat.

"We've taught you a lesson, young man," sneered Camp, as after opening
the envelopes, to assure himself that the proxies were all right, he
tucked them into his pocket. "And we'll teach you another one after
to-day's election."

Just as he concluded, we heard outside the first note of a bugle, and
as it sounded "By fours, column left," my heart gave a big jump, and
the blood came rushing to my face. Camp, Baldwin, and Wilson broke
for the door, but I got there first, and prevented their escape. They
tried to force their way through, but I hadn't blocked and interfered
at football for nothing, and they might as well have tried to break
through the Sierras. Discovering this, Camp whipped out his gun, and
told me to let them out. Being used to the West, I recognized the
goodness of the argument and stepped out on the platform, giving them
free passage. But the twenty seconds I had delayed them had cooked
their goose, for outside was a squadron of cavalry swinging a circle
round the station; and we had barely reached the platform when the
bugle sounded "Halt," quickly followed by "Forward left." As the ranks
wheeled, and closed up as a solid line about us, I could have cheered
with delight. There was a moment's dramatic hush, in which we could
all hear the breathing of the winded horses, and then came the clatter
of sword and spurs, as an officer sprang from his saddle.

"I want Richard Gordon," the officer called.

I responded, "At your service, and badly in need of yours, Captain
Singer."

"Hope the delay hasn't spoilt things," said the captain. "We had a
cursed fool of a guide, who took the wrong trail and ran us into
Limestone Canon, where we had to camp for the night."

I explained the situation as quickly as I could, and the captain's
eyes gleamed. "I'd have given a bad quarter to have got here ten
minutes sooner and ridden my men over those scoundre