“I arose, and leaning on one knee with my gun ready to fire, I watched the opening of the canyon intently, expecting to see a dark figure appear, or, cat-like eyes gleaming in the dark, but nothing happened. Suddenly something impelled me to look up, and it was well that I did, or I would not be writing this letter to you, for there on the jutting ledge, was a lion crouched to spring, not at the sheep, but at me. I whirled to shoot, but in that moment the creature leaped. By turning, however, I had changed my position and the lion leaped beyond me. “Instantly it was upon me, however, but I had time to lift my gun, and it leaped against the muzzle. ‘What if the gun should fail me?’ I thought, but it didn’t, and the lion fell over. “I sat down again to wait for dawn, feeling none too secure, and glancing often at the ledge over my head for where there is one mountain lion, there might be another, but nothing happened, and when day dawned, Harry rode over and found me sitting beside the largest dead lion, he said, that he had ever seen. The creature had torn the right sleeve almost out of my coat and my arm was scratched but the sheep were all there. “I tell you, Virginia, it makes a chap feel that he is not entirely useless in this world when he can do something that really helps. “We are back at the home ranch now; another herder, Josef Lopez, having ridden in from Red Riverton to take Juan’s place for two weeks. Little Francisco Quintano Mendoza is about to ride into town with the mail, so I will say good-bye now. How I do hope, when he returns, that he will have a letter for me from you. Greetings from your outlaw, Tom.” Virg paused and gazed intently at the signature. Margaret inquired: “What do you see, Virg? Hieroglyphics that you find hard to decipher?” “Well, it is something puzzling,” the western girl declared. “I believe that Tom first signed another name to this letter, and then, remembering that his real name was to be kept a secret, known only to himself, he has carefully erased it, but even so there is a faint lining of letters perceptible. How I do wish that we could make them out, although, perhaps we ought not to pry into Tom’s secret if he does not wish to share it with us.” “May I look at the signature?” Megsy asked. Virginia gave her the letter, and Margaret taking the sheet of paper held it up to the sun. After gazing at it intently for several seconds, she uttered a squeal of excited delight. “Virginia,” she announced, “I am just sure that I can make out the capital letter beginning the last name. See! It’s a W, isn’t it? There can be no mistake as to that.” Virginia also looked and although none of the others could be recognized, she too, was convinced that the last name began the letter her friend had mentioned. Suddenly Margaret turned toward her, with eyes that glowed.