ned.

"Here--you--Sam!" he panted. "Run to the hotel. Tell Mr. Earle--the
gentleman that just came with his wife--we got a man down here and a red
Irish setter. Quick! Catch him before he leaves!"

Then they were in the office, and the door was shut. The big man had
sunk breathless into a chair still holding to the dog's collar. He was
quiet now. But the blood that dripped slowly on the floor was no redder
than his eyes. The door opened and he plunged forward. But it was a
stranger--a young man with a star on his coat.

"Sam got 'em, Sheriff," he said, "they're comin' now. Must I bring the
man in here?"

"No. Keep him out there. This fellow's still seein' red."

"Hit?"

"Ear. That's all."

"Well, he left his mark on that devil, all right!"

The young man went out. Still the sheriff held the dog's collar. Still
through the glass windows the crowd stared in. But suddenly it parted
and then Frank saw them.

"Hold on!" panted the sheriff. "No use to tear the house down. They'll
be in here in a minute!"

The door opened, they were in the office, the sheriff had turned him
loose. He was jumping up against his tall master, long ears thrown back,
upraised eyes aglow, heart pounding against his lean ribs. But it was
the look in his young mistress's eyes that brought him down to the floor
before her in sudden recollection that went straight to his heart, that
set him all atremble with choking eagerness.

"Take us to him, Frank!" she gasped, her hands clenched tight against
her breast.

He led them--master and mistress and strange officers, neighbours from
back home, old Squire Kirby, Bob Kelley, John Davis--led them out of the
town, up the shaded road across which slanting sunbeams gently sifted.
He led them to that car he had followed secretly through the days and
watched without sleep through the nights. Only his master's low-voiced
command held him back with them.

"Steady, Frank! Steady, old man!"

But they must have made some noise, quiet as they tried to be. For
before they reached the car the heavy man scrambled out, stared for a
moment in stupid bewilderment, then threw both hands high up over his
head.

"Don't shoot!" he pleaded hoarsely, his heavy face aquiver. "We ain't
done the kid no harm!"

Then it was that Frank broke away and rushed at last to that curtained
car. With shining eyes he sprang into the front, over the seat, into the
rear. Tommy's arms were about his neck, Tommy was crying over a