The railroad man was chewing nervously on an unlit cigar. "Yes,
sheriff. You want only an engine and one car, I suppose."

"That will be enough. I've got to go uptown now and meet Dillon.
Midnight sharp, please."

"Do you know how much they got?" Sabin whispered.

"Thirty thousand, I hear, besides what they took from the
passengers. The conductor will tell you all about it. I've got to
jump to be ready."

A disappointment awaited him in the telegrapher's room at the
depot. He found a wire, but not from the person he expected. The
ranger in charge at Douglas said that Lieutenant O'Connor was at
Flag staff, but pending that officer's return he would put
himself under the orders of Sheriff Collins and wait for
instructions.

The sheriff whistled softly to himself and scratched his head.
Bucky would not have waited for instructions. By this time that
live wire would have finished telephoning all over Southern
Arizona and would himself have been in the saddle. But Bucky in
Flagstaff, nearly three hundred miles from the battlefield, so
far as the present emergency went, might just as well be in
Calcutta. Collins wired instructions to the ranger and sent a
third message to the lieutenant.

"I expect I'll hear this time he's skipped over to Winslow," he
told himself, with a rueful grin.