There was not much conversation. Pachuca was in a bad humor and confined his attention to the wheel, a precaution which the increasing darkness rendered highly prudent; Scott was intent upon watching the young Mexican, determined to have no tricks played upon him; while Polly, exhausted by the excitement of the past hour, crouched quietly in the crowded tonneau. A long way in the rear the patient pony trotted on his homeward way, wondering, no doubt, why things that moved on wheels could go so much faster than those traveling on plain, old-fashioned legs. Out of the dark came a figure on horseback--as unexpectedly as Scott himself had done a few moments ago. Scott tightened his grasp on his revolver. "If he's a friend of yours, senor, I'm afraid you'll have to go by without recognizing him," he said. "He is not," replied Pachuca. "My friends are better horsemen than that." "It's Tom," laughed Scott, suddenly. "He's come after me. Slow down, senor, if you please." Johnson, riding rapidly, swerved suddenly to one side as the big machine without lights came toward him. "What the----" he began. "Yes, it's us," said Scott, drily. "We've made a haul and we're bringing it in. Suppose you wait for that horse of mine, will you, Tom, and see that he gets home all right? Thanks to this gentleman and his friends we've only got three head of cattle left, so we'd best be careful of them." "You bet," responded Johnson, heartily. "How'd you do it, old man?" he asked. "I didn't, the lady in the case did it," responded Scott. "She'll tell you about it later. Whoop her up, will you, senor? It's getting chilly around here." CHAPTER VIII THE PRISONER Athens was dark and lonely-looking as the big machine reentered it. There was the usual light in the store and one in the house occupied by Mrs. Van Zandt and Polly. Scott motioned to Pachuca to draw up in front of the cabin. Mrs. Van Zandt came out as the machine stopped; evidently she was in doubt as to whether or not it was another invasion, for she stopped in the doorway and peered out anxiously. "It's all right, Mrs. Van!" cried Scott, cheerfully. "I've brought her back." Polly jumped out and ran to the astonished woman. "It's all right," she reiterated. "Yes, I see it is; but where did you get that car?" "It's Senor Pachuca's and we've got him, too," replied the girl, in an undertone. "And we've brought back some of the things they took." "Has Hard come back?" demanded Scott, as Mrs. Van came out to the machine. "No, and I wish he would. I'm worried about Jimmy Adams. Where are you going to put that chap?" asked Mrs. Van, eyeing Pachuca resentfully. "I think I'll ask him to spend the night in Hard's office," replied Scott, thoughtfully. "It's the only place we've got that isn't on the ground floor, and I guess nobody wants to put in the night doing sentry duty. Just bring over a couple of blankets, will you, Mrs. Van?"