There were others who had appeared upon the scene during this unequal combat. They were two men who quickly looked about for Raymond, but found him dead. Then they turned to the chief and said that they had been ordered to that point to meet him, and had horses near. The chief, aided by one of the pretended detectives, assisted Surgeon Powell along the bank to where the horses awaited them, the other men following soon after, with the booty taken from the coach. Surgeon Powell appeared half-dazed from his blow, but he made no resistance, and was mounted upon one of the horses that was there. “You must go with me, Surgeon Powell, for I do not wish to kill you, and you are too dangerous a man to leave behind,” said the chief. Frank Powell made no reply, and, mounting, the chief, his prisoner, and four men set off down the valley. The wound of the surgeon was looked to at the first halt made, and it was found not to be dangerous, though severe. On they went until after noon, when the chief said: “I wish to divide here. You have your pay, men, for the work you have done, so go your separate ways, and I will go mine, taking my prisoner with me. The odd horses we will turn loose, and that there may be seven separate trails going in as many directions, I will go on foot, and the surgeon can ride the horse I had.” Thus the men parted on the trail, the Surgeon Scout mounted on the best horse, which was led by Silk Lasso Sam. The outlaw chief appeared to have a direct purpose in view, and to know the country thoroughly, for he kept steadily on, the Surgeon Scout seemingly indifferent to what was going on. Toward sunset he came to a good spot for a camp, and was just coming to a halt when a horse and rider appeared in sight. The chief started and dropped his hand upon his revolver, as though to stand at bay, when the Surgeon Scout said sternly: “Hold! do not fire upon a woman.” “My God, I had nearly done so, for I could hardly see her through the foliage.” “It is your sister.” “Yes.” The outlaw gave a call, and the horsewoman who had not seen them up to that time came quickly toward them. “Ruth!” “Brother!” The rider had thrown herself from her horse and was clasped in her brother’s arms, while she cried: “You are free, and now you will remember your pledge to me to lead a different life.” “I will keep my word to you, Ruth. But see, here is an old friend, and he is wounded and suffering.” “Surgeon Powell!” cried Ruth, her face turning white, and then wheeling upon her brother she demanded sternly: “What does this mean, sir?” The eyes of Ruth flashed fire as she turned them upon her brother, whose face flushed under her gaze, while he said in an embarrassed manner: “Do not be angry, Ruth, for no harm has been done, or very little at least, for the surgeon is not much hurt.”