Merton like his shot into the mirror that brought down a man back of
him. Moreover, it was a trick of which he approved. When he bore the
detective to earth the cameras halted their grinding while a dummy
in the striking likeness of the detective was substituted. It was a
light affair, and he easily raised it for the final toss of triumph.

"Throw it high as you can over those tables and toward the bar,"
called Baird. The figure was thrown as directed.

"Fine work! Now look up, as if he was still in the air, now down,
now brush your left sleeve lightly with your right hand, now brush
your right sleeve lightly with your left hand.

"All right--cut. Great, Merton! If that don't get you a hand I don't
know what will. Now all outside for the horseback stuff!"

Outside, the faithful cowboys leaped into their saddles and urged
their beloved leader to do the same. But he lingered beside his own
horse, pleading with them to go ahead. He must remain in the place
of danger yet awhile for he had forgotten to bring out his old
mother. They besought him to let them bring her out, but he would
not listen. His alone was the task.

Reluctantly the cowboys galloped off. As he turned to re-enter the
dance-hall he was confronted by the detective, who held two frowning
weapons upon him. Benson was at last a prisoner.

The detective brutally ordered his quarry inside. Benson, seeing he
was beaten, made a manly plea that he might be let to bid his horse
good-by. The detective seemed moved. He relented. Benson went to his