here we are at the Lyric," said Mr. Bartlett, "so let's go in and
see what The Bandit of Harrowing Highway thinks about honor."

Leaving the car in front of the theatre the three elbowed their way
through the long, crowded lobby and soon Pee-wee Harris, scout, was no
longer in Bridgeboro but among rugged mountains where a man with a
couple of pistols in his belt and a hat as big as an umbrella reined up
a spirited horse and waited for a caravan and all that sort of stuff....

CHAPTER IV

THE FIVE REELER

And meanwhile something very real happened. Two men in khaki, but
without any pistols in their belts, rode slowly up to the front of the
Lyric Theatre in a big blue touring car and stopped.

It was one of those palatial cars "of a thousand delights," a new super
six Hunkajunk touring model. A couple of policemen, safeguarding the
public's convenience, had moved the Bartlett car beyond the main
entrance in the interest of late comers and it was in this vacated space
that the second medley of blue and nickel was now thoughtlessly parked.
No cars came along after it so there it remained with a little group of
admirers about it.

The few loiterers in the lobby glanced curiously at the two young men.
These strangers strode in laughing in a way of mutual banter, as if
their sudden decision to see the show was quite amusing to themselves.

No one recognized them; they must have come from out of town. They wore
khaki suits, with flapping brimmed hats of a color to match and their
faces were brown with the wholesome, permanent tan of outdoor life. They
seemed greatly amused with themselves and their breezy manner and
negligee which smacked of the woods attracted the attention of
Bridgeboro's staff of unpaid censors who hung out in and about the
Lyric's lobby. But little, apparently, did the strangers care what was
said and thought of them.

One of them bought the tickets, to the hearty indignation of the other,
and they disappeared into the terrible fastnesses along Harrowing
Highway where they tumbled boisterously into a couple of seats off the
center aisle, "right within pistol shot of the bandit," as one of them
laughingly remarked to the other.

In the last reel the bandit was captured by a sheriff's posse, the young
school teacher from the east whom he had villainously kidnapped was set
free and went to live on a ranch with the hero who also carried several
pistols, and the detective whom the millionaire