As the mob surged up the steps, a body of horsemen charged them fiercely from behind. Right and left galloped the riders, beating the mob over the heads with their Winchesters, or cutting them with their quirts, riding down men beneath the weight of their horses. The mob scattered and fled in every direction. The leader of the horsemen swung out of the saddle in front of the steps, and Winchester in hand, walked up to Loring. “Are you Mr. Loring?” he asked. “Yes,” answered Stephen. “Well, it seems as if we were just in time—not much too early, are we? We just got your telegram in Dominion in time to raise a big posse, and pack them onto the evening train. It was about the liveliest job that I ever did, and I reckon it is one of the best,” said the sheriff, surveying the scene with satisfaction. “How did the trouble start anyhow?” he asked. Stephen explained rapidly. At the conclusion, the sheriff turned to Knowlton: “Killed him by accident, eh? Too bad you didn’t have the pleasure of meaning to. Now I guess we’d better clean up the camp a bit, hadn’t we, Mr. Loring?” Stephen agreed, and the sheriff sent his deputies in groups of twos and threes, to raid the tents of the Mexicans, and gather in their arms. Knowlton approached Loring in a stupefied manner. “When could you have telegraphed?” he asked. “They have been guarding the roads ever since the shooting.” Stephen smiled. “When you jumped into that crowd, Knowlton, I sent Reade out through the back window of the office to send a telegram for help, and to get horses for them ready at the station camp.” A light broke over McKay’s face. Walking up to Loring, he laid his hand on his shoulder. “By God, Steve, I am proud of you!” he said. Then turning to the arc light which hung from the ceiling of the porch, he addressed it softly: “And _that’s_ the man we fired!” CHAPTER XVI In the middle of the following September, Radlett arrived in Tucson from the East. He was on his way to pay his first visit to his property in Kay, since Stephen had taken charge. As he signed his name on the hotel register, his eye was caught by the names of the arrivals of the day before. “Donald Cameron.” “Miss Cameron.”