“Well, if you won’t go at the asking, I’ll make you go,” he continued, and seizing the person nearest him, the sheriff turned him round and gave him a shove along the aisle of the car.

After three or four of the passengers had been pushed none too gently away, the others began to leave of their own accord, and the two brothers were able to make their escape.

“If it keeps on the way it has started, we’re likely to have a lively summer,” remarked Larry when he was again back in his seat.

“I hope they don’t come so quick for me,” exclaimed Hans.  And his tone was so plaintive that the others could not help but laugh.

“You’ll either have to get some nerve or else stick mighty close to your friends here,” declared the sheriff, who had remained to talk with the boys who had shown such pluck.

“Maybe I’ll go back to Germany,” sighed Hans.

“Oh, you’ll get used to this part of the world after a while.  Where are you going?”

“Tolopah.”

“Well, that ain’t the most refined place in the world,” chuckled the man of the law, “but I don’t believe you’ll get as bad as what you got.”

Pondering over this none too reassuring remark, Hans lapsed into silence, while Tom and Larry plied the sheriff with questions about life on the ranches and the antics of the cowboys.

As evening came on the boys grew restive.  Their train was due at Tolopah at nine the next morning, and despite the fact that it was rushing along at the rate of forty miles an hour, it seemed to them to be scarcely moving.  They had already passed two nights and two days on the train and the thought of putting another night in the berth, especially as it was very hot, seemed impossible, making them fretful and cross.

“Who is he?” asked Larry of the conductor, after the sheriff had left the train.

“What, you never heard of Sam Jenks, sheriff of Pawnee County?”

“We come from Ohio,” said Tom, as though apologizing for their ignorance.

“That accounts for it.  If you lived between the Mississippi and El Paso you wouldn’t ask such a question.

“Sam Jenks, known to every cowboy as ‘Shorty,’ is the nerviest man I know.  There isn’t a cattle thief or a bad man in this part of the country that won’t run when he sees him—­if he has the chance.

“You saw how Gus Megget and his gang got scared.  It was just the sight of Shorty that scared him.  He’s got a record of sending more cattle thieves and crooked gamblers to jail than any three other sheriffs in the country.  There never was anything he’s afraid of, and he’s just as tender-hearted as a kitten.  Why, I know one time, after he’d sent a train robber to prison, he took the money out of his own pocket to support the rascal’s wife and baby till he could get her folks to take her home.  You sure made a friend that’s worth having.”

On Hans’ account, Larry and Tom kept up a lively chatter during the evening, and it was not until the brothers were in their berths that they broached the subject of what to do should the sheriff’s suspicions prove true.