"But what _for_?" demanded John Ryder, suddenly becoming quiet. "Stealin' that coal. Thought you could get away with two carloads of coal and nobody do nothin' about it?" "But," pointed out Ryder, "the coal was for the use of the hotel, and you are an employee of the hotel. Where do you come into this?" "I'm officer of the State first," said Miss Solomons promptly. "It was a dead open and shut robbery. Then you attacked that poor deputy. That's serious. I'm a brother officer----" "Don't you mean a _sister_ officer?" suggested John Ryder gently. "Huh! Don't get gay," advised Miss Solomons. "I'm asking if you are going to come peaceably, or must I make trouble for you in this ranch?" "Where will you take me?" "If you agree to go back quiet-like to Pinewood, I'll take you right to the station." "And sit there in a draughty station for five hours or more, waiting for the first train?" he asked indignantly. "Well----" "You wouldn't treat a fellow that way, would you, Miss Solomons?" he went on wheedlingly. "Don't try no soft stuff on _me_," advised the house detective gloomily. "I don't fall for it." "But can't I go to bed and be called at a proper time to make the train?" "What's going to happen to me?" she demanded. "Expect me to sleep on the mat outside your door?" "But can't you go to bed, too? Let us behave humanlike," John Ryder urged. "Just because you are an officer and I am a--er--criminal, shall we say?--we need not both be miserable. _I_ want to sleep." "I should worry whether you sleep or not," snapped the house detective. "I haven't had much myself lately." "Well, then?" "Where do I bunk?" asked Miss Solomons. "I will telephone down and secure a room for you. Near my own. You may lock me in if you like and keep the key." "Inside room?" she asked. "Yes. I can't get out by the window very easily." "So be it!" she exclaimed. "You're a particular blame fool, Mr. Ryder; but not fool enough to try to escape _me_, I guess. Besides," she added, "here's a note was sent to you. Maybe it'll put you wise to somethin'." She handed him a sealed envelope. Ryder's heart leaped once and then stopped. It was not addressed in Ruth's handwriting, although his name was written in a feminine hand. He tore it open, unfolded the paper it contained, and read: "If you are a man and love R. return immediately. "ALICE J. BRACK." Ryder stood holding the note for a full minute while he regained his poise. Who was "Alice J. Brack?" Not Ruth herself. Surely there could not be another mixup in names! Then, of a sudden, he remembered the white-haired, motherly-looking wife of the fire-eating colonel. It flashed into Ryder's mind that while he was hurrying out of the hotel at Pinewood, Saturday noon, Mrs. Brack had sought to speak to him.