It was a
desperate place in which to hide them, but the game was a desperate
one at best, and the very boldness of the idea might be its best
chance of success.
I was now heading for the station over the ties, and was surprised to
see Fred Cullen with Lord Ralles on the tracks up by the special, for
my mind had been so busy in the last hour that I had forgotten that
Fred was due. The moment I saw him, I rode toward him, pressing my
pony for all he was worth. My hope was that I might get time to give
Fred the tip as to where the letters were; but before I was within
speaking distance Baldwin came running out from behind the station,
and, seeing me, turned, called back and gesticulated, evidently to
summon some cowboys to head me off. Afraid to shout anything which
should convey the slightest clue as to the whereabouts of the letters,
as the next best thing I pulled a couple of old section reports from
my pocket, intending to ride up and run into my car, for I knew that
the papers in my hand would be taken to be the wanted letters,
and that if I could only get inside the car even for a moment the
suspicion would be that I had been able to hide them. Unfortunately,
the plan was no sooner thought of than I heard the whistle of a
lariat, and before I could guard myself the noose settled over my
head. I threw the papers toward Fred and Lord Ralles, shouting, "Hide
them!" Fred was quick as a flash, and, grabbing them off the ground,
sprang up the steps of my car and ran inside, just escaping a bullet
from my pursuers.
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