The poor secretary had his ankle broken, but otherwise was unhurt, and nobody minded at all about the man Nelson had killed. They only wished he had exterminated more of them. And Tom and the Vicomte are having the time of their lives, for as soon as dawn broke they joined the Sheriff with a posse, aided by the state police in pursuit of the escaped desperadoes, and as the _Moonbeams Chronicle_ prints it today, "A general round up of bad men is in progress." Fancy us having the luck to come in for all this, Mamma, and to see the real thing! The Senator had only been joking, he said, when he had promised us that, as all this sort of excitement is a thing of the past in camps, which are generally perfectly orderly now; and he thought by making us go to bed he was causing us to avoid seeing even a little quarrelling in the streets. None of the dear real miners would have touched us, and by some strange chance not one of the men of our party had heard that the famous desperadoes were arrived in the town. They will all be lynched if they are caught, of course, so I can't help rather hoping they will get away. Perhaps it would be a lesson to them, and I hate to think of any more people being killed. But, of course, if Nelson had not had the nerve to fire, just like William Tell, the man would have blown my brains out, and as you know, Mamma, I have always despised mawkish sentiment, and I would rather he was dead than me, so I shan't let myself think a thing more about it, only to be deeply and profoundly grateful to Nelson for saving my life. We are going back to Osages this afternoon, and now I must stop, dearest Mamma. Your affectionate daughter, ELIZABETH. ON THE PRIVATE CAR AGAIN _On the private car again._ DEAREST MAMMA,--I am writing again today because I thought that perhaps my yesterday's letter might have worried you, and there is nothing in the least to mind about. My shoulder will soon heal, and I shall always feel proud of the scar. It is plastered up and does not hurt much, so don't be the smallest degree anxious. The hotel proprietor and some handy miners who could do carpentering came up while we were away at breakfast, and mended the doors, and everyone laughed and pretended nothing had happened; only Nelson had rather a set face, and after breakfast we climbed up on the steep mountain behind the hotel and watched the world. He never spoke, only helped me over the rough places, until we got high up above the last tent, and there we sat on a crag and looked down at the camp. And I think he is the finest character of a man I have ever known. It is only to you, Mamma, I would tell all this, because you will understand.