We rode into the camp at the Grand Canon a little after eight, and the deserted look of the tents gave me a moment’s fright, for I feared that the party had gone.  Tolfree explained, however, that some had ridden out to Moran Point, and the rest had gone down Hance’s trail.  So I breakfasted and then took a look at Albert Cullen’s Winchester.  That it had been recently fired was as plain as the Grand Canon itself; throwing back the bar, I found an empty cartridge shell still oily from the discharge.  That completed the tale of seven shots.  I didn’t feel absolutely safe till I had asked Tolfree if there had been any shooting of echoes by the party, but his denial rounded out my chain of evidence.

Telling the sheriff to guard the bags of the party carefully, I took two of the posse and rode over to Moran’s Point.  Sure enough there were Mr. Cullen, Albert, and Captain Ackland.  They gave a shout at seeing me, and even before I had reached them they called to know how I could come so soon, and if I had caught the robbers.  Mr. Cullen started to tell his pleasure at my rejoining the party, but my expression made him pause, and it seemed to dawn on all three that the Winchester across my saddle, and the cowboys’ hands resting nonchalantly on the revolvers in their belts, had a meaning.

“Mr. Cullen,” I explained, “I’ve got a very unpleasant job on hand, which I don’t want to make any worse than need be.  Every fact points to your party as guilty of holding up the train last night and stealing those letters.  Probably you weren’t all concerned, but I’ve got to go on the assumption that you are all guilty, till you prove otherwise.”

“Aw, you’re joking,” drawled Albert.

“I hope so,” I said, “but for the present I’ve got to be English and treat the joke seriously.”

“What do you want to do?” asked Mr. Cullen.

“I don’t wish to arrest you gentlemen unless you force me to,” I said, “for I don’t see that it will do any good.  But I want you to return to camp with us.”

They assented to that, and, single file, we rode back.  When there I told each that he must be searched, to which they submitted at once.  After that we went through their baggage.  I wasn’t going to have the sheriff or cowboys tumbling over Miss Cullen’s clothes, so I looked over her bag myself.  The prettiness and daintiness of the various contents were a revelation to me, and I tried to put them back as neatly as I had found them, but I didn’t know much about the articles, and it was a terrible job trying to fold up some of the things.  Why, there was a big pink affair, lined with silk, with bits of ribbon and lace all over it, which nearly drove me out of my head, for I would have defied mortal man to pack it so that it shouldn’t muss.  I had a funny little feeling of tenderness for everything, which made fussing over it all a pleasure, even while I felt all the time that I was doing a sneak act and had really no right to touch her belongings.  I didn’t find anything incriminating, and the posse reported the same result with the other baggage.  If the letters were still in existence, they were either concealed somewhere or were in the possession of the party in the Canon.  Telling the sheriff to keep those in the camp under absolute surveillance, I took a single man, and saddling a couple of mules, started down the trail.