only sustain him for a short time, he said:

"Cook, where's your horse?"

"Down at the livery stable on the next block."

"Can you get me one at the same place?"

"Yes, a good one, too."

"We must get out of here. The place is too hot for us. All the trains
are watched, so we must leave a-horseback. Go get your horse, hire one
for me, and we'll vamoose at once."

Cook started up with alacrity, for as long as the brandy was potent the
tremens would not effect him.

Cummings hastily changed his apparel, putting on a pair of high boots
and over them the fringed leather chapparels. A wide sombrero replaced
the derby hat, and when fully costumed he had on the business rig of a
typical cow-boy.

He had hardly completed these arrangements when the noise of horse-hoofs
on the pavement was heard. Opening the shutter Cummings waved his hand,
and placing his revolver in the holster ran down the steps.

He had written a note to his landlady saying that pressing business of
the most urgent kind had suddenly called him out of town, and it was
uncertain when he could return. This he left on the table and the
landlady saw him no more.