An hour later, as they were approaching the spot where the trail descended into the rocky creek bottom, Tom, who was in the lead, whirled in his saddle and lifted a warning hand. “Stay here,” he said softly, “while I ride ahead that I may be sure that it is safe for you to descend the creek trail.” The girls did as he bade them, and while the lad rode forward, Margaret asked fearfully: “What aroused Tom’s suspicions, do you suppose?” “Perhaps he just wishes to be cautious,” Virginia replied, but had Margaret been able to see her friend’s face at that moment, she would have known that her words were not expressing her true thought, for the western girl had also seen the something that had alarmed the lad and that something was a face peering above the bank close to the mesquite bush. It, however, had quickly disappeared when Tom started alone toward the creek trail. Virginia delayed but one moment, and then touching Comrade with her quirt, she was soon riding at the boy’s side. “Tom,” she said in a low voice, “I also saw that face. Do you think it is the man with whom you were last night? Is he lying in wait for us?” “I think not,” Trusty Tom declared. “I believe whoever is in hiding is there for some other reason.” Margaret, not wishing to be left behind, had urged Star to a gallop and rode close to Virginia. In another moment they would be able to see down the slope of the creek trail, but, before they were near enough to begin the descent horsemen appeared, coming up, and with a cry of relief, Virginia urged Comrade ahead of the others as she exclaimed to the man in the lead, “Oh, Mr. Rizor, it is only you, isn’t it? We girls have such active imaginations today.” Then, turning to Margaret, she added, “Megsy, this is the sheriff from Douglas. Mr. Rizor, these are my friends, Margaret Selover and Tom, who are from the East.” Virginia had been thinking fast from the moment she first saw the sheriff, and yet, from the self-possessed way in which she talked none could have surmised that she was truly concerned. Her first thought had been, “Tom is a self-confessed outlaw. If the sheriff and his men are looking for him I must try to protect him as he protected us.” “My wife told me you had a girl friend stayin’ with you from the East, Miss Virginia,” Mr. Rizor was saying, “but she didn’t mention a boy.” As the sheriff spoke, he gazed keenly at the lad whose expression, Virginia was glad to note, did not express guilt. “Are you looking for someone who has been breaking the law, Mr. Rizor?” the western girl asked, anxious to attract those penetrating grey eyes from Tom. “Yes, that’s who we’re after,” the sheriff replied. “Two nights ago, the Number Six Limited was held up in Rattlesnake Canyon and the mail car was robbed. The track walker reported that he had seen two men and a lad of about eighteen, lurking around there an hour before the limited was due, and he thinks he could recognize any one of them if he could see them again.”