“Yes, mother, and Steve, and his friend. We're all right.”
Fraser dropped through, and his sister let herself down into his arms. Struve followed, and was immediately handcuffed. Larry put back the trap and fastened it from within before he dropped down.
“We shall have to leave at once, mother, without waiting to dress the children,” explained Fraser. “Wrap them in blankets and take some clothes along. I'll drop you at the hotel and slip my prisoner into the jail the back way if I can; that is, if another plan I have doesn't work.”
The oldest child awoke and caught sight of Fraser. He reached out his hands in excitement and began to call: “Uncle Steve! Uncle Steve back again.”
Fraser picked up the youngster. “Yes, Uncle Steve is back. But we're going to play a game that Indians are after us. Webb must be good and keep very, very still. He mustn't say a word till uncle tells him he may.”
The little fellow clapped his hands. “Goody, goody! Shall we begin now?”
“Right this minute, son. Better take your money with you, mother. Is father here?”
“No, he is at the ranch. He went down in the stage to-day.”
“All right, friends. We'll take the back way. Tennessee, will you look out for Mr. Struve? Sis will want to carry the baby.”
They passed quietly down-stairs and out the back door. The starry night enveloped them coldly, and the moon looked down through rifted clouds. Nature was peaceful as her own silent hills, but the raucous jangle of cursing voices from a distance made discord of the harmony. They slipped along through the shadows, meeting none except occasional figures hurrying to the plaza. At the hotel door the two men separated from the rest of the party, and took with them their prisoner.