Quest nodded.

“That seems all right,” he declared.  “I’ll explain later, Professor.”

He hurried out into French’s tent and found the Inspector just drawing on his shoes.

“French, what’s the time?” he demanded.

“Three minutes past seven, or thereabouts,” French replied, yawning.  “I’m coming right along.  We’ve lots of time.  Three-quarters of an hour ought to do it, the boys say.”

Quest held out a strip of paper.

“This gave me a turn,” he said quietly.  “I found it in a black box by the side of my bed.”

French gazed at it in a puzzled manner.  They walked outside to the camp, where the cowboys were finishing their breakfast.

“Say, boss,” one of them called out, “you’re not making that eight-thirty train to New York?”

“Why not?” Quest asked quickly.  “It’s only three quarters of an hour’s ride, is it?”

“Maybe not,” the other replied, “but as it’s eight now, your chances ain’t looking lively.  Kind of overslept, haven’t you?”

Both men glanced once more at their watches.  Then Quest thrust his back with a little oath.

“Our watches have been set back!” he exclaimed.  “The Hands again!”

For a moment they looked at one another, dumbfounded.  Then Quest moved towards the corral.

“Say, is there any quicker way to the depot?” he enquired of the cowboys.

They heard his question indifferently.

“Fifty dollars,” Quest continued, “to any one who can take me by a quicker route.”

One of them rose slowly to his feet.

“Waal,” he observed, “fifty dollars would come in kind of handy.  Yes, I reckon I can cut off a mile or two for you.”

“Fifty dollars for you, then,” Quest replied, as they hurried towards the horses, “and an extra ten if we make the train.”

They galloped off into the distance.  The cowboys finished their breakfast and went off to their work.  Laura stole out from her tent and started off in rather a shame-faced manner for a ride.  Presently Lenora opened her eyes.  She, too, stretched out her hand for her watch.  Suddenly she sat up in bed with a little exclamation.  On the table by her side was a small black box.  She took off the lid with trembling fingers, drew out a scrap of paper and read:—­

    “Fools!  Tongues of flame will cross Quest’s path.  He will never
    reach the depot alive.”

Lenora glanced at Laura’s empty bed.  Then she staggered to the opening of the tent.

“Laura!” she cried.

There was no one there.  The cowboys had all gone to their work, Laura had passed out of sight across the ridge in the distance.  Lenora staggered to the cook wagon, where the Chinese cook was sitting cleaning plates.

“Listen!” she cried.  “They are in danger, the three men who have gone off to the depot!  If you’ll ride after them, I will give you a hundred dollars.  Give them this,” she added, holding out the scrap of paper.