"Somethin' funny here. Nobody ever come to a dance ridin' at a walk," he muttered, and then as the little cavalcade broke into the bright moonlight at a bend of the trail, his eyes widened with surprise. In front rode Bat Lajune with Purdy's horse snubbed to his saddle-horn, and immediately following him were the girl and Endicott riding side by side. Tex saw that the girl was crying, and that Endicott's hands were manacled, and that he rode the missing horse. Behind them rode Sam Moore, pompously erect, a six-shooter laid across the horn of his saddle, and a scowl of conceited importance upon his face that would have evoked the envy of the Kaiser of Krautland. The figure appealed to the Texan's sense of humour and waiting until the deputy was exactly opposite his place of concealment, he filled his lungs and leaned forward in his saddle. "Y-e-e-e-o-w!" The sound blared out like the shrill of doom. The officer's six-shooter thudded upon the ground, his hands grasped the horn of the saddle, his spurs dug into his horse's flanks and sent the animal crashing between the girl and Endicott and caused Purdy's horse to tear loose from the half-breed's saddle-horn. "Stand 'em off, Bat!" shrieked the deputy as he shot past, "I'm a-goin' fer help!" and away he tore, leaning far over his horse's neck, with Purdy's horse, the stirrups lashing his sides, dashing madly in his wake. A moment later Tex pushed his mount into the trail where the girl, drawn close to Endicott, waited in fearful expectation. The half-breed met him with a grin. Rapidly, with many ejaculations interspersing explosive volleys of half-intelligible words, Bat acquainted the Texan with the progress of events. The cowpuncher listened without comment until the other had finished. Then he turned to Endicott. "Where'd you learn to shoot?" he asked abruptly. "I never learned. Until tonight I never had a pistol in my hand." "You done damned well--to start out with," commented the Texan dryly. "But, oh, it's horrible!" sobbed the girl, "and it's all my fault!" "I reckon that's right. It looks like a bad mix-up all around." "Oh, why didn't you tell me what a _beast_ he was? You knew all the time. And when you insulted him I thought you were _horrid_! And I thought he was so noble when he refrained from shooting you." "No. He wasn't noble, none noticeable--Purdy wasn't. An' as for me tellin' you about him--answer me square: Would you have believed me?" The girl's eyes fell before his steady gaze. "No," she faltered, "I wouldn't. But isn't there something we can do? Some way out of this awful mess?" The Texan's eyes flashed a glint of daring. He was thinking rapidly. Endicott moved his horse closer to the cowboy. "Can't you manage to get _her_ away--onto a train some place so she can avoid the annoyance of having to testify at the trial, and submit to the insulting remarks of your sheriff?"