THE United States marshals from New Orleans had kept rather quiet throughout the journey; but as we approached the city of Bagdad their spirits rose. The momentary interest caused by Mr. Raoul’s and Cousin Kirk’s shots had subsided when they learned there was nothing national or professional in the affair. Amateur shooting was always poor. But May Bruce was considered with more attention; and when their “special” of a “shirt-tail” engine and a caboose backed up to the Bagdad platform, they all requested to be presented to her. General McBride performed the ceremony with much formality; including Mrs. Judge Pennoyer, upon whom, I could see, they looked with a reverence that only her years divided from admiration. Even Raoul came in for some passive applause; but I played, as I saw, a very second fiddle, which is why, perhaps, Miss Jeanie and I went off and took a walk, by moonlight, down through the ravine where I first met her. We returned to find Mrs. Pennoyer slumbering peacefully on a settee; but Raoul was walking up and down nervously. The straight track stretched glistening away in the moonlight, but not a train nor engine was in sight. “How long do you think it’ll take Mr. Bruce to get down back here?” says Raoul to me, nervously. “Train Number Two doesn’t come back till to-morrow, they said.” “I know; but the station man here tells me the engineer on Number Two married a cousin of Kirk Bruce’s brother-in-law. Our train doesn’t come along from Memphis until four in the morning. And there’s not an engine to be had in Bagdad.” “There’s one,” said I; and I pointed to a distant shower of sparks above the forest. At the same moment the peculiar light rattle of a “wild” engine was audible. “My God, sir, so it is!” answered Raoul. “And it’s on the line of the Tennessee River and Gulf.” “Number Two?” I answered, grimly, for I was getting to understand the ways of the place. “What shall we do?” “Do?” said Raoul; “why, get ready, of course. He may shoot before he stops the engine; lucky I’ve got a rifle. You go in and prepare the ladies.... This is my quar’l,” he added, impatiently, at my demur. “Besides you ain’t got only that girl’s pop-gun. Reckon you’ll have a chance later, likely.” So I went in, and told the girls; and we woke up Mrs. Judge Pennoyer, who, I am bound to say, took it more calmly than might have been expected from a lady of her years. May was tearful; but Jeanie’s eyes were very bright. All this time the rattle of the engine was growing louder down the grade. “Haven’t you kept that revolver I gave you?” said Jeanie to me. I looked at her; and went out upon the platform just in time to see the engine dash up, and a strange figure jump out of the cab.