The sheriff nodded. "All ready, boys." The clattering hoofs disappeared in a cloud of dust down the road. The rough places of life had been padded for all these young women. Never before had they come so close to its raw, ugly seams. The shadow of the law, the sacredness of caste, had always guarded them. India turned upon her brother big dilated eyes. "He said Kilmeny. Who can the man be?" "I don't know." He was silent a moment in frowning thought, struck by an unwelcome idea. "You remember Uncle Archie. He had a son named Jack who lives somewhere in Colorado. D'ye remember he came home when you were a little kiddie? Stopped at granddad's." The girl nodded. "He fought you once, didn't he?" The captain nodded. The doubt began to grow into certainty. "Thought I had seen his face before. He's our cousin Jack. That's who he is." "And now he's a highwayman. By Jove, he doesn't look it," contributed Farquhar. "I don't believe it. Such nonsense!" flamed Moya. "Fancy! A real live highwayman to supper with us," Joyce reminded them with sparkling eyes. "I'm sure he isn't. There must be a mistake." "He was troubled about something, Moya," Lord Farquhar suggested. "He and his friend were riding fast and plainly in a hurry." "Didn't he stop to talk?" "He had to do that to avoid suspicion. I could see his mind wasn't on what he was saying. The man was anxious." "I thought you liked him," Moya charged scornfully. Her guardian smiled. "I did, but that isn't evidence that will acquit him in court of being a road agent." "He's India's cousin--maybe. How could he be a criminal? Shall we have to cut her and Captain Kilmeny now?" Miss Dwight demanded hotly. The captain laughed, but there was no mirth in his laughter. "You're a stanch friend, Miss Dwight. By Jove, I hope you're right about him." Deep in her heart Moya was not at all sure. What did she know of him? And why should she care what he was? The man was a stranger to her. Forty-eight hours ago she had never seen him. Why was it that every good looking vagabond with a dash of the devil in him drew on her sympathies? She recalled now that he had hesitated when she had mentioned his name, no doubt making up his mind to let her think him other than he was. The sheriff must know what he was talking about when he said the man was an outlaw. But the appearance of him pleaded potently. Surely those clear unflinching eyes were not the homes of villainy. Nor could she find it possible to think his gallant grace of bearing the possession of a miscreant. Before the day was out her faith in him had sunk to zero. Captain Kilmeny returned from the camp of the miners with the news that it was deserted except for two of the deputies who had stayed to guard it against the possible return of the robbers. He brought with him the detailed story of the hold-up.