after dragging the still unconscious man a little to one side beyond
danger from any wagon that might happen along, the lad slung the heavy
satchel over his shoulder, scrambled on to Juniper's back and galloped
away.

The road was a lonely one, and he rode more than a mile before reaching
a farm-house. Here the excited lad rapped loudly on the front door and
shouted. No one was yet astir, and several minutes passed before an upper
window was cautiously opened and a woman's voice inquired who was there
and what was wanted.

Rod began to explain his errand; but after a few words the woman called to
him to wait until she could come down, and then slammed the window down.
To the young brakeman's impatience the ensuing delay seemed an hour in
length, though in reality not more than five minutes elapsed before the
front door opened and the woman again appeared.

"Now, what were you trying to tell me about men dying in the road?" she
asked sharply.

As Rod was about to reply there came a sound of galloping horses and a
shout from the place where he had left Juniper fastened to a fence post.

"There he is!"

"Now we've got him!"

"Throw up your hands, you scoundrel!"

"Don't you dare draw a pistol or we'll fill you full of holes!"

These and a score of similar cries came to the ears of the bewildered lad
as half a dozen horsemen dashed up to the front gate, and four of them,
leaping to the ground, ran towards him while the others held the horses.

He was too astonished even to remonstrate, and as they seized him he
submitted to the indignity as quietly as one who is dazed.

The woman in the doorway regarded this startling scene with amazement.
When in answer to her eager questions the new-comers told her that the
young desperado whom she had so nearly admitted to her house was a
horse-thief, who, but a short time before, had stolen the animal now
tied to her front fence, at the point of a revolver from the man who was
leading him to water, she said she wouldn't have believed that such a mere
boy could be so great a villian.

"It's the truth though," affirmed the man who acted as spokesman. "Isn't
it, Al?"

"Yes, siree," replied Al, a heavy-looking young farm hand. "An more 'n
that, he fired at me too afore I'd give up the 'orse. Oh, yes, he's a bad
un, young as he looks, an hangin' wouldn't be none too good for him."

"I did nothing of the kind!" cried Rod, indignantly, now finding a chance
to speak. "This is a