He couldn't help laughing at that.

"Why, of course they have other names," Lorry explained. "They don't go
about as Knapp and Garland."

"But people must see them," Chrystie insisted, "somebody must know what
they look like."

Mark had to straighten it out for her.

"Their friends do--ranchers up in the hills, and their pals in the
towns. But the sheriffs and the general public don't. When they're out
for business they cover their faces, tie handkerchiefs or gunny sacks
round them."

Chrystie shuddered delightedly.

"How awful they must be! I'd love to be held up just to see them."

Mark and Lorry looked at one another and smiled, as age and experience
smile at the artlessness of youth. It was an interchange of mutual
understanding, a flash of closer intimacy, and as such lifted the young
man to sudden heights.

"Where do they put the money?" said Aunt Ellen, her thought
processes, under the unusual stimulus of a conversation on bandits,
stirred to energy.

"That's what we'd like to know, Mrs. Tisdale. They have a cache somewhere