“Mr. Hammond seems to be afraid of the man” pursued Helen.  “Or we would not be running away like this.”

Ruth smiled.  “I guess,” she said, “that Mr. Hammond is hurrying us on for a different reason.  You must remember that he has this company on salary and that the longer we delay on the way to the Hubbell Ranch the more money it is costing him while the company is idle.”

It was proved, however, that the picture producer had a good reason for wishing to get out of Dakota Joe’s neighborhood.  When the four girls in the taxicab rolled up to the gate of the railroad yard and got out with their bags, Dakota Joe himself popped out of hiding.  With him a broad-hatted man in a blue suit.

“Hey!” ejaculated the showman, standing directly in Ruth’s path.  “I got you now where I want you.  That Hammond man won’t help me, and I told him the trouble I’m in jest because he got that Injun gal away from me.  I see her!  That’s the gal—­”

“What do you want of me, Mr. Fenbrook?” demanded Ruth, bravely, and gesturing Wonota to remain behind her.  “I have no idea why you should hound me in this way.”

“I ain’t houndin’ you.”

“I should like to know what you call it then!” the girl of the Red Mill demanded indignantly.

She was quick to grasp the chance of engaging Fenbrook in an argument that would enable Wonota and the two other girls to slip out of the other door of the taxicab and reach the yard gate.  She flashed a look over her shoulder that Helen Cameron understood.  She and Jennie and Wonota alighted from the other side of the cab.

“I got an officer here,” stammered Dakota Joe.  “He’s a marshal.  That Injun gal’s got to be taken before the United States District Court.  She’s got to show cause why she shouldn’t come back to my show and fill out the time of her contract.”

“She finished her contract with you, and you know it, Fenbrook,” declared Ruth, turning to pay the driver of the cab.

“I say she didn’t!” cried Dakota Joe.  “Officer!  You serve that warrant—­Hey! where’s that Wonota gone to?”

The Indian girl and Ruth’s friends had disappeared.  Dakota Joe lunged for the gate.  But since the beginning of the war this particular railroad yard had been closed to the public.  A man stood at the gate who barred the entrance of the showman.

“You don’t come in here, brother,” said the railroad man.  “Not unless you’ve got a pass or a permit.”

“Hey!” shouted Dakota Joe, calling the marshal.  “Show this guy your warrant.”

“Don’t show me nothin’,” rejoined the railroad employee.  He let Ruth slip through and whispered:  “Your party’s aboard your car.  There’s a switcher coupled on.  She’ll scoot you all down the yard to the main line.  Get aboard.”

Ruth slipped through the gate, while the guard stood in a position to prevent the two men from approaching it.  The girl heard the gate close behind her.