rattling sound to escape.

"I know what you want, young fellow. You want this letter to prove that
you had some sort of authority to let me ride. Sorry I can't accommodate
you, my son, but those devilish Pinkertons will be after me in twenty-
four hours, and this letter would be just meat to them. I'll fix you all
right, though. My name's Cummings, Jim Cummings, and I'll write a letter
to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat that will clear you Honest to God, I
will. You've been pretty generous to-night; given me lots of swag, and
I'll never go back on you.

"Give my love to Billy Pinkerton when you see him. Tell him Jim Cummings
did this job."

As he uttered these words, the train commenced slacking up, and as it
stopped, Cummings, opening the door, with his valuable valise, leaped to
the ground, closed the door behind him, the darkness closed around him
and he was gone.

Inside the car, a rifled safe, a bound and gagged messenger, and the
Adams Express Company was poorer by $100,000 than it was when the
'Frisco train pulled out of the depot the evening before.




CHAPTER III.

PINKERTON TO THE RESCUE.