Part 12 (1/2)

”Better take him back to the camp, ma'am,” suggested Barney, ”and if you've got a bit of rope handy, we can bind him before he comes to.”

”Bind him?” they repeated.

”Why certainly, ladies, didn't he rob you of your car? Automobile thieves in this country ain't tolerated any more than horse thieves.”

It was difficult to keep reminding themselves that this nice young man was a thief. But visions of Miss Helen's fifty dollars persisted in floating before them, and it occurred to them furthermore that he might be one of the most daring criminals in the country, since he had made good his escape from Chicago in an aeroplane.

”Lift him in the car, then,” ordered Miss Campbell in a resigned tone of voice. ”But it's hard to believe.”

”Caught with the goods, ma'am,” the cowboy a.s.sured her. ”Caught red-handed with the goods on him.”

They took him back to the encampment in the maimed Comet, Barney following on his horse, and presently they had him securely bound, feet and hands, with stout pieces of cord.

”It seems a shame to bring the poor fellow back to life as a prisoner,”

observed Miss Campbell, as she applied her bottle of smelling salts to Peter's nose.

All this time Billie had remained silent. She was not so forgiving of Peter's sins as the others. In fact, she marveled at their moderation.

”I'm sure I don't see why he should go scot free any more than any other thief,” she said. ”This is the second time he has robbed us, first of fifty dollars and then of the Comet--”

Barney McGee looked up at this and Peter himself opened his eyes and regarded them all steadily with what Mary described to herself as ”a long brown look.”

”You're caught, you see, young feller,” said Barney, smiling amiably.

”You shouldn't have doubled on your tracks. Sometimes that trick works, but not in this country of wise men.”

Peter looked into the lean brown face of the cowboy and smiled so delightfully, that immediately his captors felt the magnetism of his glance and stirred uncomfortably.

”What do you take me for, a thief?” he asked.

”What else are you, young man?” asked Barney. ”Didn't you steal upon five helpless and unprotected ladies in the night and take their automobile. And this ain't the first time you've robbed them, either.”

Peter made a sudden effort to rise and fell back helplessly, finding himself bound hand and foot.

Then a look of recognition came into his eyes.

”It's Miss Campbell and the young ladies,” he exclaimed. ”So it _was_ your automobile. I had no time to examine it, but I remembered the color was red.”

”If you are feeling quite yourself, now, young feller,” interrupted Barney, ”I think we'll be taking you along to the next village where we can leave you to be dealt with according to the law in these parts.”

”I suppose you won't believe me, Miss Campbell,” began Peter in a rather weak voice, ”but I give you my word of honor I'm not a thief. The real thief has my own car.”

”But who is the real thief?”

”I don't know. I never saw him. I was sound asleep when some one gave me a stunning blow on the forehead. I don't know whether I was unconscious hours or minutes. It seemed only minutes, only an instant, really when I was able to crawl out of my blankets and start up this red motor car. My one idea was to catch the thief, but the car was in bad shape, that was why he took mine, I suppose, and my head was so dizzy I hardly knew what I was doing.”

”That's a queer tale, young man,” said the cowboy. ”The only thing you've got to prove it's true is the lump on your forehead.”

But Peter felt too ill to argue the subject. Miss Campbell was moved with pity by his condition.

”You are almost a boy,” she said. ”I want to be charitable, but I do think you should be punished for having caused so much uneasiness of mind. Will you give me your word to reform--?”