The Mexican who had the temerity to attempt lassooing the Steam Man had little idea of the enormity of his task. The lariat, thrown with great precision, settled down accurately over the Man’s head. It reached his shoulders and there tightened. At the moment, the Steam Man was going a thirty miles per hour gait. The effect was thrilling. The greaser fancied that he could bring the Steam Man’s career to an end, even as he would that of a wild steer. But he had reckoned without his host this time. The Steam Man kept straight on. The Mexican threw his horse upon its haunches, and the next moment expected to see the Steam Man topple over. But an astonished cowboy was the order of the hour. The lariat tightened like a whip-cord. The little mustang’s forefeet were braced in the soft soil of the prairie. For ten feet the mustang slid along as if on skates. Then over on its side it went, the cowboy falling underneath. The dead weight of the horse was pulled twenty-five feet, when the lariat snapped like a bit of thread. The other greasers saw the act and were dismayed. Not one of them ventured to throw a lariat after that. Pomp and Barney nearly split their sides with laughter. “Golly, but dat was jus’ too funny fo’ anyfing!” cried Pomp, hilariously. “Jes’ fink ob dat fool ob a greaser who ’spected he could pull de Steam Man over.” Steam was now got up rapidly and the Man speedily left his pursuers far behind. Across the plain at race-horse speed he went. Soon the greasers were left out of sight in the rear. It was certainly a narrow escape, and all had very good reasons to congratulate themselves on it. The Steam Man kept on for a couple of hours at a fair rate of speed. Then some high mountains began to loom up in front. “I believe those are the Los Pueblos Mountains!” declared Frank, positively. “Golly! dat am good!” cried Pomp. “Bejabers, thin we ought to be nigh the inemies’ camp,” remarked Barney. “Yes,” agreed Frank. “It is well for us to be on the lookout.” The region about them was of the most bare and arid sort. To the southward there extended a literal desert, seemingly as wild as the famed Steppes of Tartary. Every few steps the bones of some dead animal and occasionally a man were encountered. It was in fact a plain of death. No living thing adorned it, and it was probably in time of great drought that many travelers had lost their lives here. The Steam Man picked its way across the plain. Soon broad mesas of some fertility were encountered. Then a river was encountered, which was fortunately not so deep but that it could be easily waded. Once on the other side the Steam Man made its way through a rocky pass and then a surprise was accorded the travelers. Down through the pass there came the rumble of wheels and the heavy cracking of a whip. Then around a curve shot a heavy mountain stage with six horses attached.