“I have just crossed the border,” he replied.

She nodded understandingly.

“Were they after you?”

“Yes! with a warrant for my arrest!”

She patted his hand.

“You are safe now,” she whispered.  “We care that much for a United States warrant,” and she snapped her slim fingers.  “You shall stay with us for a time.  We will take care of you.”

He sighed wearily.

“If I do,” he said, “there will be trouble.  Wherever I go there is trouble.  I have been round the world looking for peace.  I shall never find it in this world.”

Her eyes filled with tears.  There was something hopelessly pathetic in his appearance.

“You shall find it here,” she promised.

* * * * *

Back in the camp, a spirit of deviltry had entered once more into Long Jim and his mates.  A tactless remark on the part of one of the deputies had set alight once more the smouldering fire of resentment which the cowboys had all the time felt against them.  At a word from Long Jim they were taken by surprise and again tied to the wagon.

“These guys ain’t got a sufficiency yet, boys.  Limber up them guns again.  Same order as before.  Put a few more petals on them flowers, and I’ll trim their eyelashes for them.”

The deputies spluttered with rage and fear.  Shots rained about them and the canvas of the wagon was riddled.  French began to get restless.

“Look here,” he said to Laura, “I can’t stand this any longer.  It don’t seem right to have two officers of the law treated like that, any way.  I guess I’ll have to butt in again.”

“Don’t,” Laura advised bluntly.  “You’ll get yours if you do.”

A yell from one of the deputies clinched the matter.  French drew his revolver and advanced into the centre of the little group.

“Say, you fellows,” he exclaimed, “you’ve got to stop this!  Those men came here on a legitimate errand and it’s your duty to respect them.”

Long Jim strolled up to the Inspector.

“Maybe you’re right, Mr. French,” he remarked, “but—­”

With a swoop of his long arm he snatched French’s gun away, examined it for a moment, looked at French and shook his head.

“You’re too fat, Inspector,” he declared sorrowfully, “still too fat.  That’s what’s the matter with you.  Another ten minutes’ exercise will do you all the good in the world.”

A bullet struck the dust a few inches from French’s feet.  Furious with rage, he found himself once more forced to resort to undignified antics.  This time, however, Laura intervened.  She walked straight up into the little circle and stood close to French’s side, regardless of the levelled guns.

“Look here, Long Jim, or whatever your name is,” she protested, “you just call your crowd off and stop this.  Undo those two deputies.  A joke’s a joke, but this has gone far enough.  If you don’t untie them, I will.  Take your choice and get a move on.”