An hour later the next section left in charge of the Gaylor brothers. When noon came, Mason was almost going mad at his inaction. He was electrified five minutes later when Scotty came to the house with news that a dispatch rider was waiting for him at the bunk-house. He hastened down and the message was placed in his hands. It was from Josephine and was written at the command of Ricker. The demand was for money with a warning not to try to find the girls under penalty of their death. If they agreed to pay over the amount of money demanded in the dispatch, Ricker would see that the prisoners were set free. He stipulated in the message that they would be given forty-eight hours to decide, and at the expiration of that time, if a messenger did not arrive at Duke Williams’ place at Smoky Point, the prisoners would be killed. It closed with a warning to Mason and Bud that any attempt to capture Ricker’s agent at Duke Williams’ hotel would result in the girls’ death. The message was written in Josephine’s own handwriting. “Where did you get this message?” Mason asked, looking sharply at the rider. “It was given me at the station by a stranger and I was paid well to deliver it to you,” the rider answered simply. “There will be no answer,” Mason said shortly, dismissing him. He kept turning the envelope over in his hand. On one corner there was drawn the picture of a butterfly, and it puzzled him. Hunting up the Marshal he turned the message over to him. The latter read it, then gave a long whistle. “So, he has shown his hand at last,” was his comment; “whew! a cool million he wants. Modest in his demands, isn’t he?” “What puzzles me,” Mason replied, “is what that butterfly means on the corner of the envelope.” The Marshal looked it over carefully. “Just merely the whim of a girl,” he said at length. “I don’t believe it,” Mason protested warmly. “Josephine drew that picture on there for a purpose, and I would stake my life on it.” “There may be a reason for the picture at that,” the Marshal replied thoughtfully; “well, anyway, the counterfeiter has shown his hand, and now I can work with light ahead.” The Marshal’s forces were to start within an hour. Mason with Red Sullivan and Scotty were looking over their guns at the bunk-house. Tex, a short distance away from them, was watching an object in the sky. Finally he called Red over to where he stood, and Red in turn called Mason over to them. “Shure, Jack, and isn’t that a devil of a big bird?” the Irishman asked, pointing to the sky. Mason looked up and stared at the object which was looming up larger to their vision each minute. “That’s an airplane,” he said at last in wonderment. “Holy Saints!” Red cried, crossing himself, “and may the devil fly away with it!” Mason could plainly hear the humming of the motor now, and he took off his hat and waved it excitedly.