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The shrill tones reached the stranger, who turned half around in his saddle and saw Cummings waving his hat. Checking his speed somewhat he allowed the distance between them to become less, but holding his horse well in hand, if any signs of treachery were observed he could have some chance of escaping. As the two men swept toward him they cried as in one voice:" "Moriarity!"

A yell reached the ears of the three fugitives as they galloped out on the prairie and a voice, clear and commanding, rang out in tones familiar to Moriarity, who had heard them in the cooper-shop when the tramp commanded him to hold out his hands. "There they are lads. Forward!"

It was but an instant, though, that he stood thus, and calling to Moriarity to follow, he dashed through the door, drawing his ready revolver from his side coat-pocket at the same time, and catching a fleeting glimpse of a flying shadow, sped after it.

Cummings noted the smile, and glancing at Moriarity, said: "How would you go at it, Doctor, if you were to make the attempt?" The Doctor laughed quietly, as if he appreciated the joke, and leaning back in his chair, his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, his feet stretched on a chair before him, he answered: "Well, Cummings, I don't know as I would like to do it.

A movement made by the pseudo tramp, caused him to turn around, and he was gazing straight into the open barrel of a dangerous-looking revolver, held by a steady hand, and cool daring eyes were glancing over the shining barrel, as a voice, decided and commanding, said: "Hands out, Dan Moriarity, I want you."

Dan Moriarity, seated on a bare plank bench in his cell, was passing away the weary hours in figuring how he was to get out of the bad scrape into which he had plunged. He was now fully satisfied that the detectives were very certain that he had a hand in the express-car robbery but how did they get hold of that dangerous fact?

Come, is it a bargain?" In answer Cummings held out his hand. The Doctor grasped it cordially and holding his left hand to Moriarity, who took it, said: "We four, for Scip is my pal, can do it OK, We can " "Why not do it now," said Cummings, with energy. "Our horses are here and we can put a whole day between us and the ranche before Swanson returns."

A grinning skull, mounted on a black pedestal, stood on a small table in the center of the room, and on shelves against the wall were ranged a number of curiously-shaped bottles. It was, in fact, the divining-room of a professional fortune-teller. The room was vacant when Moriarity opened the door, but as he threw it back, a small bell was sounded.

Chip, wounded and insensible, was in the house of the "widow," the rendezvous of a daring band of robbers and the birth-place of many a dashing raid or successful bank robbery. The dark shadow that had followed Cummings and Moriarity from the distillery to Cook's cooper-shop was none other than the assumed Barney O'Hara, who had aired his heels so jauntily in the saloon that afternoon.

Hence when the judge asked what the prisoner was charged with the policeman, an Irishman, retorted with a joke, the story-teller disregarding the fact that it was an impertinence. A distinguished New York judge told the following: Two tenement harridans look out of their windows simultaneously. "Good-morning, Mrs. Moriarity," says one. "Good-morning, Mrs.