“Wall, cap’en, we’re glad to meet you an’ yer Steam Man. My name is Sim Harmon, an’ I’m captain of this band, who are all Vigilants from Poker Gulch. We’re out on the trail of a gang of ruffians.”
“Vigilants!” cried Frank Reade, Jr., with joy. “Then you are not members of the Artemas Cliff gang?”
“Artemas Cliff!” cried Harmon. “He is the chap we want. If we can lay hands on him we’ll stretch his neck, you bet. D’yer know whar we kin find him?”
“I am on his trail myself.”
“The deuce ye are?”
“It’s the truth.”
“What for?”
Frank opened the door of the wagon, and descending shook hands with the Vigilant captain.
He told him explicitly of the mysterious murder of which Jim Travers had been adjudged guilty, but which it was believed was the work of Cliff.
Harmon listened with interest.