“The toughest part of it is,” Fred went on, “that we thought we had the whole thing ‘hands down,’ and that was what made my father go in so deep.  Only the death of one of the M.W. directors, who held eight thousand shares of K. & A., got us in this hole, for the G.S. put up a relation to contest the will, and so delayed the obtaining of letters of administration, blocking his executors from giving a proxy.  It was as mean a trick as ever was played.”

“The G.S. is a tough customer to fight,” I remarked, and asked, “Why didn’t you burn the letters?” really wishing they had done so.

“We feared duplicate proxies might get through in time, and thought that by keeping these we might cook up a question as to which were legal, and then by injunction prevent the use of either.”

“And those Englishmen,” I inquired, “are they real?”

“Oh, certainly,” he rejoined.  “They were visiting my brother, and thought the whole thing great larks.”  Then he told me how the thing had been done.  They had sent Miss Cullen to my car, so as to get me out of the way, though she hadn’t known it.  He and his brother got off the train at the last stop, with the guns and masks, and concealed themselves on the platform of the mail-car.  Here they had been joined by the Britishers at the right moment, the disguises assumed, and the train held up as already told.  Of course the dynamite cartridge was only a blind, and the letters had been thrown about the car merely to confuse the clerk.  Then while Frederic Cullen, with the letters, had stolen back to the car, the two Englishmen had crept back to where they had stood.  Here, as had been arranged, they opened fire, which Albert Cullen duly returned, and then joined them.  “I don’t see now how you spotted us,” Frederic ended.

I told him, and his disgust was amusing to see.  “Going to Oxford may be all right for the classics,” he growled, “but it’s destructive to gumption.”

We rode into camp a pretty gloomy crowd, and those of the party waiting for us there were not much better; but when Lord Ralles dismounted and showed up in his substitute for trousers there was a general shout of laughter.  Even Miss Cullen had to laugh for a moment.  And as his lordship bolted for his tent, I said to myself, “Honors are easy.”

I told the sheriff that I had recovered the lost property, but did not think any arrests necessary as yet; and, as he was the agent of the K. & A. at Flagstaff, he didn’t question my opinion.  I ordered the stage out, and told Tolfree to give us a feed before we started, but a more silent meal I never sat down to, and I noticed that Miss Cullen didn’t eat anything, while the tragic look on her face was so pathetic as nearly to drive me frantic.

We started a little after five, and were clear of the timber before it was too dark to see.  At the relay station we waited an hour for the moon, after which it was a clear track.  We reached the half-way ranch about eleven, and while changing the stage horses I roused Mrs. Klostermeyer, and succeeded in getting enough cold mutton and bread to make two rather decent-looking sandwiches.  With these and a glass of whiskey and water I went to the stage, to find Miss Cullen curled up on the seat asleep, her head resting in her brother’s arms.