The beautiful “sun-dogs” were true prophets; the wind got up in the night and beat fiercely upon us as we lay under our tattered awning; towards the dawn the rain came down and soaked us through and through. Tired as we were after our long tramp through the dust of the desert sleep was impossible. The break of day was a relief. No news of Andy’s mules. He had been after them all the day before, but found no trace of them; perhaps he had not sworn quite sufficiently at young Mexico. We were obliged to start and there was nothing for it but to borrow Vogel and Prairie Bill’s horses, Andy hoping that as his beasts were in the habit of travelling backwards with skins and forwards with stores, they might have made tracks home to their stables. By this time we had become quite friendly with our hunters and they bade us a touching farewell. I often thought of them afterwards. Did Vogel ever succeed in stocking a farm? What became of that reckless but very attractive scamp, Prairie Bill? And young Mexico, what was his fate? When we reached Fort Wallace with two heads and having accounted for eight other beasts, for Tom Nickalls shot one on the way home, the hunters and loafers who had chaffed us so unmercifully on our departure changed their tune. No praise was too high for us, we became heroes, and our once despised rifles were passed round, handled and admired by every idler about the place. Mr. and Mrs. Ruggles were delighted at our success. They too had had a little excitement during our absence, for a thief had broken into the house and stolen all Mrs. Ruggles’ jewellery and trinkets, keepsakes which are more valuable than ever in this dreary banishment. The man had got in through the window of Oliver’s room and happily not noticing some of our boxes, in which there were a few articles of more or less value, made straight for the poor lady’s apartment. In these parts a man had to take the law into his own hands. Ruggles soon found out who was missing from the settlement, and starting by the next train caught the rogue at a station down the line. Revolver in hand Ruggles offered him his choice between disgorging and having his brains blown out. He chose the former, so all was recovered save a dollar or two, which had been spent in drink. The thief was a man well connected, who had gone down in the world, wrecked by drink and debauchery, and was now a navvy on the railroad. Towards eight o’clock in the evening the train carried us westward.