Slowly the fellow shook the sleep from his brain. He looked at Flatray sullenly, without answering. But he climbed into the saddle which Jack had cinched for him. Dogged and wolfish as he was, the man knew his master, and was cowed. CHAPTER III THE TABLES TURNED From the local eastbound a man swung to the station platform at Mesa. He was a dark, slim, little man, wiry and supple, with restless black eyes which pierced one like bullets. The depot loungers made him a focus of inquiring looks. But, in spite of his careless ease, a shrewd observer would have read anxiety in his bearing. It was as if behind the veil of his indifference there rested a perpetual vigilance. The wariness of a beast of prey lay close to the surface. "Mornin', gentlemen," he drawled, sweeping the group with his eyes. "Mornin'," responded one of the loafers. "I presume some of you gentlemen can direct me to the house of Mayor Lee." "The mayor ain't to home," volunteered a lank, unshaven native in butternut jeans and boots. "I think it was his house I inquired for," suggested the stranger. "Fust house off the square on the yon side of the postoffice--a big two-story brick, with a gallery and po'ches all round it." Having thanked his informant, the stranger passed down the street. The curious saw him pass in at the mayor's gate and knock at the door. It opened presently, and disclosed a flash of white, which they knew to be the skirt of a girl. "I reckon that's Miss 'Lissie," the others were informed by the unshaven one. "She's let him in and shet the door." Inevitably there followed speculation as to who the arrival might be. That his coming had something to do with the affair of the West kidnapping, all were disposed to agree; but just what it might have to do with it, none of them could do more than guess. If they could have heard what passed between Melissy and the stranger, their curiosity would have been gratified. "Good mornin', miss. Is Mayor Lee at home?" "No--he isn't. He hasn't got back yet. Is there anything I can do for you?" Two rows of even white teeth flashed in a smile. "I thought maybe there was something I could do for you. You are Miss Lee, I take it?" "Yes. But I don't quite understand--unless you have news." "I have no news--yet." "You mean----" Her eager glance swept over him. The brown eyes, which had been full of questioning, flashed to understanding. "You are not Lieutenant O'Connor?" "Am I not?" he smiled. "I mean--are you?" "At your service, Miss Lee."