The young man put his foot on the burly neck and calmly ground it into the dust. Otherwise he paid no attention to him, but held the burning eyes of the girl that stared at him from a bloodless face. “What was he in for?” “For holding up a train.” She had answered in spite of herself, by reason of something compelling in him that drew the truth from her. “How long has he been in the penitentiary?” “Seven years.” Then, miserably, she added: “He was weak and fell into bad company. They led him into it.” “When did he escape?” “Two days ago. Last night he knocked at my window--at the window of the room where I lodge in Fort Lincoln. I had not heard of his escape, but I took him in. There were horses in the barn. One of them was mine. I saddled, and after I had dressed his wound we started. He couldn't get any farther than this.” “Do you live in Fort Lincoln?” “I came there to teach school. My home was in Wisconsin before.” “You came out here to be near him?” “Yes. That is, near as I could get a school. I was to have got in the Tucson schools next year. That's much nearer.” “You visited him at the penitentiary?” “No. I was going to during the Thanksgiving vacation. Until last night I had not seen him since he left home. I was a child of seven then.” The Texan looked down at the ruffian under his feet. “Do you know the road to Mexico by the Arivaca cut-off?” “Yes.” “Then climb into my rig and hit the trail hard--burn it up till you've crossed the line.” The fellow began to whine thanks, but the man above would have none of them, “I'm giving you this chance for your sister's sake. You won't make anything of it. You're born for meanness and deviltry. I know your kind from El Paso to Dawson. But she's game and she's white clear through, even if she is your sister and a plumb little fool. Can you walk to the road?” he ended abruptly. “I think so. It's in my ankle. Some hell-hound gave it me while we were getting over the wall,” the fellow growled. “Don't blame him. His intentions were good. He meant to blow out your brains.” The convict cursed vilely, but in the midst of his impotent rage the other stopped and dragged him to his feet. “That's enough. You padlock that ugly mouth and light a shuck.” The girl came forward and the man leaned heavily on her as he limped to the road. The Texan followed with the buckskin she had been riding and tied it to the back of the road-wagon. “Give me my purse,” the girl said to the convict after they were seated. She emptied it and handed the roll of bills it contained to the owner of the team. He looked at it and at her, then shook his head. “You'll need it likely. I reckon I can trust you. Schoolmarms are mostly reliable.” “I had rather pay now,” she answered tartly. “What's the rush?” “I prefer to settle with you now.”