nd? There was a
woman in a dead faint, and just clutching a lantern that she had tied
up in a red scarf, poor little thing! And, Major, it was Sally! It was
the little girl that loved me out at Barker's, and has loved me and
waited for me ever since! And when she came to, and knew me, she was so
glad she 'most fainted away again; and she let on as it was her that
gave away the job. And I took her into the sleeper, and the madam, God
bless her!--she knew Sally before and was good to her--she took care of
her and is cheering her up. And now, Major, I'm going to take her
straight to Denver, and send for a parson and get her married to me,
and she'll brace up, sure pop."

The whistle sounded, and the train started. From the window of the
"sleeper" Sinclair and his wife took their last look at the weird
scene. The lieutenant, standing at the side of the track, wrapped in
his cloak, caught a glimpse of Mrs. Sinclair's pretty face, and
returned her bow. Then, as the car passed out of sight, he tugged at
his mustache and hummed:

"Why, boys, why,
Should we be melancholy, boys,
Whose business 'tis to die?"

In less than an hour, telegrams having in the meantime been sent in
both directions, the train ran alongside the platform at Barker's; and
Watkins, imperturbable as usual, met Sinclair, and gave him his
letters.

"Perry gang wiped out, I hear, Major," said he. "Good thing for the
country. That's a lesson the 'toughs' in these parts won't forget for a
long time. Plucky girl that give 'em away, wasn't she? Hope she's all
right."

"She is all right," said Sinclair with a smile.

"Glad of that. By the way, that father of her'n passed in his checks
to-night. He'd got one warning from the Vigilantes, and yesterday they
found out he was in with this gang, and they was a-going for him; but
when the telegram come, he put a pistol to his head and saved them all
trouble. Good riddance to everybody, I say. The sheriff's here now, and
is going east on the next train to get them fellows. He's got a big
posse together, and I wouldn't wonder if they was hard to hold in,
after the 'boys in blue' is gone."

In a few minutes the train was off, and its living freight--the just
and the unjust, the reformed and the rescued, the happy and the
anxious. With many of the passengers, the episode of the night was
already a thing of the past. Sinclair sat by the side of his wife, to
whose cheeks the color had all come back; and Sally Johnson