opened. His hand flew to his holster, and the mocking laugh of the
detective followed the discovery that his revolver was gone.

Sam laid his hand on the outlaw's shoulder, and pressing his revolver
against his head, called on him to surrender.

Throwing his hands over his head as Moriarity had done, he suddenly
brought his clinched fists full against Sam's temple, putting into the
blow the strength of three men. Without a groan the detective's head
sank forward, his revolver dropped from his nerveless grasp, and he lay
unconscious on his horse's back.

A yell of exultation, and Cummings, turning his horse, dashed down the
bank, through the stream, and disappeared in the darkness on the other
side.

Instantly the detectives followed, leaving two men to guard Moriarity,
for in the darkness Sam's condition was not noticed, but seeing the
folly of attempting a pursuit in so dark a night, Chip's whistle
recalled them, and the chagrined and disappointed operatives gathered
around the cottonwood trees.

Sam, who had merely been stunned, soon recovered, and with the aid of
some brandy Richard was himself once more.

The notorious Jim Cummings had escaped, but two of his accomplices, Cook
and Moriarity, were in the clutches of the law.

Dan maintained a dogged silence as the cavalcade cantered toward Kansas
City, nor did he speak a word until he was safe behind the bars in that