“It is time you had your food,” he said.

Long Jim took up the violin and drew the bow across it.  There was a chorus of execrations.  Craig snatched it from him.  He suddenly turned his back upon them all.  He had played before as though to amuse himself.  He played now with the complete, almost passionate absorption of the artist.  His head was uplifted, his eyes half closed.  He was no longer the menial, the fugitive from justice.  He was playing himself into another world, playing amidst a silence which, considering his audience, was amazing.  They crouched across the table and watched him.  Long Jim stood like a figure of stone.  The interruption which came was from outside.

“More of these damned tourists,” Long Jim muttered.  “Women, too!”

Craig had stopped playing.  He turned his head slowly.  Quest was in the act of dismounting from his horse.  By his side was the Professor; just behind, Lenora and Laura.  Long Jim greeted them with rough cordiality.

“Say, what are you folks looking for?” he demanded.

Quest pointed to Craig.

“We want that man,” he announced.  “This is Inspector French from New York.  I am Sanford Quest.”

There was a tense silence.  Craig covered his face with his hands, then suddenly looked up.

“I won’t come,” he cried fiercely.  “You’ve hounded me all round the world.  I am innocent.  I won’t come.”

Quest shrugged his shoulders.  He took a step forward, but Long Jim, as though by accident, sauntered in the way.

“Got a warrant?” he asked tersely.

“We don’t need it,” Quest replied.  “He’s our man, right enough.”

“Right this minute he’s our cook,” drawled Long Jim, “and we ain’t exactly particular about going hungry to please a bunch of strangers.  Cut it short, Mister.  If you ain’t got a warrant, you ain’t got this man.  Maybe we don’t sport finger-bowls and silk socks, but we’re civilised enough not to let no slim dude walk off with one of our boys without proper authority.  So you can just meander along back where you come from.  Ain’t that right, boys?”

There was a sullen murmur of assent.  Quest turned back and whispered for a moment to the Inspector.  Then he turned to Long Jim.

“All right,” he agreed.  “The Inspector here and I will soon see to that.  We’ll ride back to the township.  With your permission, the ladies and our elderly friend will remain for a rest.”

“You’re welcome to anything we’ve got except our cook,” Jim replied, turning away....

Darkness came early and the little company grew closer and closer to the camp fire, where Craig had once more taken up the violin.  The Professor had wandered off somewhere into the darkness and the girls were seated a little apart.  They had been treated hospitably but coldly.

“Don’t seem to cotton to us, these boys,” Laura remarked.

“They don’t like us,” Lenora replied, “because they think we are after Craig.  I wonder what Long Jim has been whispering to him, and what that paper is he has been showing Craig.  Do you know how far we are from the Mexican border?”