on Cobre Hills. Then he returned to the Mountain House for the delayed
supper.

Meantime Mr. Something Dewing held a hurried consultation with Mr. Mayer
Zurich; and forthwith took horse again for Morning Gate Pass, slipping by
dark streets from the town, turning aside to pass Hospital Springs. Where
the arrest of the red pony had been effected, Dewing dismounted; below
the trail, a dozen yards away, he fished Mr. Stanley Mitchell's spur from
under a prickly pear; and returned in haste to Cobre.

After his supper Stanley strolled into Zurich's--The New York Store.

Unknown to him, at that hour brown Awguan was being driven back to his
little home corral, resaddled--with Stanley's saddle--and led away into
the dark.

Stanley exchanged greetings with the half-dozen customers who lingered at
the counters, and demanded his mail. Zurich handed out two fat letters
with the postmark of Abingdon, New York. While Stanley read them, Zurich
called across the store to a purchaser of cigars and tobacco:

"Hello, Wiley! Thought you had gone to Silverbell so wild and fierce."

"Am a-going now," said Wiley, "soon as I throw a couple or three drinks
under my belt."

"Say, Bat, do you think you'll make the morning train? It's going on nine
now."

"Surest thing you know! That span of mine can stroll along mighty peart.