Towards evening they approached a small settlement at the foot of the pass, called Redwood. As they drove in they found the people in a state of great excitement. A few hours before, the Sheriff of the county had run down and fought a band of horse-thieves just outside the village. The Sheriff and his men had won the fight, captured the thieves, and secured the stolen horses in corrals through the village. The place was almost in an uproar, and our travellers had some difficulty in finding a place where they could lodge themselves and their mule for the night. The Sheriff and his party seemed to fill the village, and some of the crowd round the gaol, where the horse-thieves were imprisoned, never moved away all night, fearing the robbers might try to break out before morning, when they were to be escorted by a strong body of men to the nearest town, to await their trial. Jack, however, was too tired to enter much into the great excitement going on, and was glad enough, after some supper, to wrap himself up in his blanket, and go to sleep on the floor of a tiny shanty outside the village. CHAPTER XII. AT LAST. The next morning Jack was quite rested, and very eager to join Joe, who proposed they should go and see the start of the prisoners. They walked towards the gaol, and arrived there just as the party were starting. The horse-thieves, eight in number, were all pinioned, and were riding in the midst of a band of well-armed horsemen, who were ever on the alert to detect the first attempt to escape from any of the prisoners. They were a sullen, desperate-looking set of men, who scowled fiercely at the restless crowd as they surged round them, almost pushing against the horses in their efforts to see all they could of the far-famed evil gang, who at last had fallen into the hands of justice. At a signal from the Sheriff the little band moved away and slowly trotted out of sight. When they had disappeared from view, everyone followed the Sheriff (who had remained behind with two of his men) to the big corral, where the captured horses were still standing. Jack and Joe went with the crowd and stood looking at the horses, while the Sheriff began busily entering in his notebook the different brands marked on the animals. 'What's that for?' asked Jack. 'To help find out the owners,' returned Joe. 'You see the Sheriff 'll advertise these brands, and the colours of the horses, and then folks as have lost any 'll come and identify 'em.' Suddenly Jack gave a cry of delight, and clambering over the bars of the corral, rushed into the midst of the loose horses towards a yellow-coated broncho. He flung his arms round the horse's neck and fairly hugged it. Then, keeping hold of the shaggy mane, he led the animal towards the bars, where his friend stood staring in astonishment. [Illustration: 'JACK RUSHED INTO THE MIDST OF THE HORSES TOWARDS A YELLOW-COATED BRONCHO.']