"Not a great deal, but there's comfortable quarters the other side of it. It's going to be a wonderful, wonderful place, sir, when the railroad starts booming it."

Hazel felt she must get away from anything approaching a cross-examination.

"I don't just get that," said Carbhoy evasively.

"Well, it's just a question of depot. You see, there's coal right here enough to heat the whole world. That's what folks say. And when the railroad fixes things so transport's right, why, everybody 'll just jump around and build up big commercial corporations, and--there'll be dollars for everybody."

"I see--yes."

"Mr. Slosson is working that way now," the girl went on. Then she added, with a shadowy smile, "That's why he couldn't get in to meet you, I guess."

"He must be very busy," said the millionaire dryly. "However, I'm glad." And Hazel turned in time to discover his kindly smile.

Carbhoy gazed about him at the open plains with which they were surrounded. The air, though hot, was fresh, and the sunlight, though brilliant, seemed to lack something of that intensity to be found in the enclosed streets of a city. He threw away his cigar stump, and in doing so he glanced back over the trail again. He remained gazing intently in that direction for some moments. Then he turned back.

"I guess those fellers riding along behind are just prairie men," he said.

Hazel started and looked over her shoulder. There were four men now riding together on the trail. They were steadily keeping pace with her team some two hundred yards behind.

It was some moments before the man received his answer. Hazel was troubled. She was almost horrified.

"Yes," she said at last, with an effort. "They're just prairie men."

Then she smiled, but her smile was a further effort. "They're pretty tough boys to look at, but I'd say they're all right. Maybe you're not used to the prairie?"

The millionaire smiled.

"I've seen it out of a train window," he said.

"Through glass," said Hazel. "It makes a difference, doesn't it? It's the same with everything. You've got to get into contact to--to understand."

"But there hasn't always been glass between me and--things."

Hazel's smile was spontaneous now as she nodded her appreciation.

"I'm sure," she said. "You see, you're a millionaire."

Carbhoy smiled back at her.

"Just so." This girl was slowly filling him with amazement.

"It's real plate-glass now," Hazel went on.

"And plate-glass sometimes gets broken."

"Yes, I s'pose it does. But you can fix it again--being a millionaire."

"Yes----"

The millionaire broke off. There was a rush of hoofs from behind. The horsemen were close up to them, coming at a hard gallop. Carbhoy turned quickly. So did Hazel. The millionaire's eyes were calmly curious. He imagined the men were just going to pass on. Hazel's eyes were full of a genuine alarm. She had known what to expect. But now that the moment had come she was really terrified. What would Gordon's father do? Had he a revolver? And would he use it? This was the source of her fear.

It was a breathless moment for the girl. It was the crux of all Gordon's plans. She was the center of it. She, and these men who were to execute the lawless work.

She was given no time to speculate. She was given no time but for that dreadful wave of fear which swept over her, and left her pretty face ghastly beneath its tanning. A voice, harsh, commanding, bade her pull up her team, and the order was accompanied by a string of blasphemy and the swift play of the man's gun.

"Hold 'em up, blast you! Hold 'em, or I'll blow the life right out o'

you!" came the ruthless order.

At the same time James Carbhoy was confronted with a gun from another direction, and a sharp voice invited him to "push his hands right up to the sky."

Both orders were obeyed instantly, and as Hazel saw her companion's hands thrown up over his head a great reaction of relief set in. She sat quite still and silent. Her reins rested loosely in her lap. She no longer dared to look at her companion. Now that all danger of his resistance was past she feared lest an almost uncontrollable inclination to laugh should betray her.

She kept her eyes steadily fixed upon these men, every one of whom she had known since her childhood, and to whom she fully made up her mind she intended to read a lecture on the subject of the use of oaths to a woman, sometime in the future. As she watched them her inclination to laugh grew stronger and stronger. They had carried out their part with a nicety for detail that was quite laudable. Each man was armed to the teeth, and was as grotesque a specimen of prairie ruffianism as clothes could make him--the leader particularly. And he, in everyday life, she knew to be the mildest and most quaintly humorous of men.

But his work was carried out now without a shadow of humor. He looked murder, or robbery, or any other crime, as he ordered her out of the driving seat, and waited while she scrambled over the back of the seat to one of those behind with a movement well-nigh precipitate. Then, at a sign, one of the other men took her place, and, at another short command to "look over" the millionaire, the same man proceeded to search Gordon's father for weapons. The production of an automatic pistol from one of his coat pockets filled Hazel with consternation at the thought of the possibilities of disaster which had lain therein.

But the four assailants gave no sign. Their work proceeded swiftly and silently. The millionaire's feet were secured, and he was left in his seat. Then, under the hands of the man who had replaced Hazel, the journey was continued with the escort beside and behind the vehicle.

As they drove on Hazel wondered. Her eyes, very soft, very regretful, were fixed on the iron-gray head of the man in the front seat. She registered a vow that if he were hurt by the bonds that held his ankles fast some one was going to hear about it. Now that the whole thing was over and done with she felt resentful and angry with anybody and everybody--except the victim of the outrage. She was even mad with herself that she had lent assistance to such a cruel trick.

But the millionaire gave no sign. Hazel longed to know something of his feelings, but he gave neither her nor his assailants the least inkling of them for a long time. At last, however, a great relief to the girl's feelings came at the sound of his voice, which had lost none of its even, kindly note.

"Say," he observed, addressing the ruffian beside him, who was busily chewing and spitting, "you don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

Then Hazel made a fresh vow of retribution for some one as the answer came.

"You can smoke all the weed you need," the man said, with a fierce oath, "only don't try no monkey tricks. You're right fer awhile, anyways, if you sit tight, I guess, but if you so much as wink an eye by way of kickin', why, I'll blow a whole hurricane o' lead into your rotten carcase."

It was a long and weary journey that ended somewhere about midnight.

Nor was it until the teamster drew up at the door of a small, squat frame house that James Carbhoy's bonds were finally released. He was thankful enough, in spite of his outward display of philosophic indifference. He knew that he was the victim of a simple "hold-up,"

and had little enough fear for his life. The matter was a question of ransom, he guessed. It was one of those things he had often enough heard of, but which, up to now, he had been lucky enough to escape. He only wondered how it came about that these "toughs" had learned of his coming. He felt that it must have been Slosson's fault. He must have opened his mouth. Well, for the time, at least, there was little to do but hope for the best and make the best of things generally.

He was given no option now but to obey. His captors ordered him out of the wagon in the same rough manner in which they ordered Hazel. And the leader conducted them both into the house.

There was a light burning in the parlor, and the millionaire looked about him in surprise at the simple comfort and cleanliness of the place. He had expected a mere hovel, such as he had read about. He had expected filth and discomfort of every sort. But here--here was a parlor, neatly furnished and with a wonderful suggestion of homeness about it. He was pleasantly astonished. But the leader of the gang was intent upon the business in hand.

He turned to Hazel first and pointed at the door which led into the kitchen.

"Say, you!" he cried roughly. "You best get right out wher' you'll belong fer awhiles. We ain't used to female sassiety around this layout, an' I don't guess we need any settin' around now. Say, you'll jest see to the vittles fer this gent an' us. Ther's a Chink out back ther' what ain't a circumstance when it comes to cookin' vittles.

You'll see he fixes things right--seein' we've a millionaire fer company. Get busy."

Hazel departed, but a wild longing to box the fellow's ears nearly ruined everything. There certainly was a reckoning mounting up for some one.

The moment she had departed the man turned his scowling, repellent eyes upon his male prisoner.

"Now, see here, Mister James Carbhoy. I guess you're yearning for a few words from me. Wal, I allow they're goin' to be mighty few. See?"

he added brutally. "I ain't given to a heap of talk. There's jest three things you need to hear right here an' now. The first is, it's goin' to cost you jest a hundred thousand dollars 'fore you get into the bosom o' your family again. The second is, even if you got the notion to try and dodge us boys, you couldn't get out o' these mountains without starvin' to death or breakin' your rotten neck.

You're jest a hundred miles from Snake's Fall, and ninety o' that is Rocky Mountains an' foothills. You ain't goin' to be locked in a prisoner here. There ain't no need. You can jest get around as you please--in daylight--and one of the boys 'll always be on your track.