"The second section of the passenger train--Number Three, with the express cars--was stopped at Tower W to-night. Oliver Sollers was pulling; he is badly shot up, and one of the messengers was shot all to pieces. They cracked the through safe, emptied it, and made a clean get-away." "Tower W--two hundred and seventy-six miles. Have you ordered up an engine?" "Yes." "Where's Kennedy?" A second voice answered: "Right here." "Strike a light, Farrell. What about the horses?" "They're being loaded." "Is the line clear?" "Rooney Lee is clearing it." "Spike it, George, and leave every westbound train in siding, with the engine cut loose and plenty of steam, till we get by. It's now or never this time. Two hundred and seventy-six miles; they're giving us our money's worth. Who's going with us, Farrell?" "Bob Scott, Reed Young, and Brill, if Reed can get him at Sleepy Cat. Dancing is loading the horses." "I want Ed Banks to lead a _posse_ straight from here for Williams Cache; Dancing can go with him. And telephone Gene and Bob Johnson to sit down in Canadian Pass till they grow to the rocks, but not to let anybody through if they want to live after I see them. They've got all the instructions; all they need is the word. It's a long chance, but I think these are our friends. You can head Banks off by telephone somewhere if we change our minds when we get a trail. Start Brill Young and a good man from Sleepy Cat ahead of us, George, if you can, in a baggage car with any horses that they can get there. They can be at Tower W by daybreak and perhaps pick up a trail before we reach there, and we shall have fresh horses for them. I'm ready, I guess; let's go. Slam the door, George!" In the hall Whispering Smith threw a pocket-light on his watch. "I want you to put us there by seven o'clock." "Charlie Sollers is going to pull you," answered McCloud. "Have you got everything? Then we're off." The three men tiptoed down the dark hall, down the stairs, and across the street on a noiseless run for the railroad yard. The air was chill and the sky clear, with a moon more than half to the full. "Lord, what a night to ride!" exclaimed Whispering Smith, looking mournfully at the stars. "Well planned, well planned, I must admit."