That evening Ruth Welch was sitting at home quietly reading when a servant brought a message that a man was at the door asking to see Major Welch. It happened that Major Welch was absent in town, and Mrs. Welch had driven over that afternoon to see a sick woman. So Ruth went out to see the man. He was a stranger, and Ruth was at once struck by something peculiar about him. He was a little unsteady on his feet, his voice was thick, and, at first, he did not appear to quite take in what Ruth told him. He had been sent, he repeated several times, to tell “Mazhur Welth” that they had taken his advice and had made the first arrest, and bagged the man who had given the information that started that riot, and had gotten evidence enough from him to hang him and to haul in the others too. “But I don’t understand,” said the girl. “What is all this about? Who’s been arrested, and who is to be hung? My father has never advised the arrest of anyone.” “Tha’s all I know, miss,” said the man. “At least, tha’s all I was to tell. I was told to bring him that message, and I guess it’s so, ’cause they’ve got the young fellow shut up in a jail since last night and as drunk as a monkey, and don’t anybody know he’s there—tha’s a good joke, ain’t it?—and to-morrow mornin’ they’ll take him to the city and lodge him in the jail there, and ’t ’ll go pretty hard with him. Don’t anybody know he’s there, and they’re huntin’ everywheres for him.” He appeared to think this a great joke. “But I don’t understand at all whom you mean?” “The young one. They bagged him, and they’re after the two older ones too,” he said, confidentially. He was so repulsive that Ruth shrank back. “The one they calls Rupert; but they’re after the two head devils—his brother and that Allen one. Them’s the ones the colonel and your friend over there want to jug.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of Red Rock. It all flashed on the girl in a moment. “Oh! They have arrested Mr. Rupert Gray, and they want Mr. Jacquelin Gray and Captain Allen? Who has arrested him?” “The d—tectives. But them’s the ones had it done—Major Leech and Mist’ Still.” He winked elaborately, in a way that caused Ruth to stiffen with indignation. “What was it for?” she asked, coldly. “For murder—killin’ them men three or four years back. They’ve got the dead wood on ’em now—since the young one told all about it.” “Has he confessed? What did he say?” “Enough to hang him and them too, I heard. You see they tanked him up and led him on till he put his head in the noose. Oh! they’re pretty slick ones, them detectives is. They got him to pilot ’em most to the jail door, and then they slipped him in there, to keep him till they take him to the city to-morrow. He was so drunk—don’t nobody know who he was, and he didn’t know himself. And they huntin’ all over the country for him!” He laughed till he had to support himself against the door. The expression on Ruth’s face was such that the man noticed it.