“Spread out, boys.  We’ll round him up going back, if we can,” Long Jim directed.  “If he was spilled off, we’ll get him, sure.  But if the dirty coyote has tricked us and slipped off into the brush, it’s good night.  We’ll never find him.”

French’s hand tightened upon his revolver, and his eyes pierced the darkness to right and to left as he rode slowly back.

“There’ll be no trial if I can get the drop on him,” he muttered.

Away in the distance, John Chinaman was reaching Allguez, and the little party of cowboys rode into the camp without having seen a sign of him.  French was narrating his failure to the three others, when Quest in silence handed him a cablegram, a messenger had just brought.

    To Inspector French, Allguez, N.M.

    Very sorry.  Craig gave us slip after leaving depot.  Niece
    disappeared from address given.  No clues at present.  When are
    you returning?

French swore softly for a moment.  Then he dropped into a chair, exhausted.

“This,” he declared, “is our unlucky evening.”

3.

The woman who had just laid the cloth for a homely evening meal, smiled across at the girl who stood at the window.

“It’s all ready now directly your uncle comes home,” she announced.  “Say, you never seem to tire of looking out of that window.”

The girl turned around with a smile.  She was very young and dressed in deep mourning.

“I’ve never seen anything like it before, Mrs. Malony,” she said.  “It was quite quiet where we lived in London, and here, with the street cars and the elevated railways and the clanging of bells, there never seems to be a moment’s peace.”

Mrs. Malony came to the girl’s side.

“Your poor uncle looks as though a little peace would do him good,” she remarked.

The girl sighed.

“If only I could do something for him!” she murmured.

“He’s in some kind of trouble, I think,” Mrs. Malony observed.  “He is not what you might call a communicative person, but it’s easy to see that he is far from being happy in himself.  You’ll ring when you’re ready, Miss Mary?”

The door was suddenly opened, and Craig entered.  He was very pale and a little out of breath.  Before he closed the door, he listened for a moment.

“Just as we were speaking about you, Mr. Craig,” the landlady continued.  “I was saying to the young lady that there was only one thing I could wish for you both, and that was that you weren’t quite so worried like.”

Craig seemed scarcely to hear her.

“Look across the road,” he begged.  “Tell me if there is a man in a blue serge suit and a bowler hat, smoking a cigar, looking across here.”

Mrs. Malony and the girl both obeyed.  The girl was the first to speak.

“Yes!” she announced.  “He is looking straight at these windows.”

Craig groaned and sank down upon a chair.