How anxiously did the good people of the little village watch for the return of Pedro, when the sun’s declining rays heralded the approach of evening.

If he should fail to bring rescuers within the hour they would be forced to behold the melancholy spectacle of seeing his aged parents slaughtered before their eyes.

They knew that Sinyaro would carry out his horrible threat, for since his first appearance in the neighborhood, some three years previously, he had committed over a hundred bold and cold-blooded outrages.

No wonder they looked anxiously for the coming of the son who was to bring rescue and hope in his wake.

Longer and longer grew the slanting red beams, and the afternoon was wearing slowly away.

In two directions were the eyes of the many watchers turned.

They looked hopefully for Pedro from one way, and fearfully for Sinyaro from the other.

At length distant whistles were heard far away to the right, and soon after came the sound of mighty feet spurning the hard ground.

The people looked aghast at one another, for they had never heard sounds like these in the vicinity of their peaceful village before.

Shrill and clear sounded the shrieks on the air once more, and the tread of the mighty feet grew louder.

Some of the women rushed screaming into their houses and covered their heads with their gowns.

Others ran to the extreme end of the little town, opposite the part from which the terrifying sounds came.

A few of the men were brave enough to go to the right end of the village and try to find out what the racket meant.

Very soon the Steam Horse hove into view, Frank on the seat and Pedro at his side, while behind him, in the wagon, clustered Harry Hale, Barney Shea, the latter fiddling away with might and main, and the gloomy avenger.

A few hundred yards behind them came the Steam Man, Charley and Pomp on the seat, the darkey singing and playing on his banjo, while in the body of the wagon could be seen Barry Brown and Jack.

They had to move slowly, for here the ground was not as level as upon the plains, beyond, and the drivers knew that they must exercise great care in traveling over uneven surface, if they would not injure the delicate machinery of the wonderful inventions.

They went into the village in style, and it was humorous to watch the effect of their entrance upon different sorts of natures.

Some gave one glance at the odd-looking metal horse, and then roared with laughter.

Others, as soon as they caught a mere glimpse of the contrivance, set up some most awful howls, and started for home on a racket.

Probably they might all have been very much terrified if they had not seen Pedro sitting by Frank’s side.

As it was, it took a good ten minutes to collect them all around the strange monsters, and convince them that they were not infernal machines.

“Tell them what they are, Pedro,” said the inventor to the boy at his side. “They would not listen to me.”

Thereupon the Mexican boy stood up and told them all about it, explained, as well as he knew how to do, the construction and workings of the two prairie travelers, and then introduced Frank Reade as the talented inventor.

Of course our hero was hailed with the greatest delight and admiration by the simple village folk.

“The bandit, as you call him, has not come yet?” inquiringly said Frank, as he hopped down to the ground.

“No,” said Pedro, springing down to his side, “but he will be here when the sun is dipping.”

“And we’ll dip him,” said Harry Hale, with an expectant grin. “I like to come across these tough customers.”

“It’s fun to handle them and clip their wings,” said Barry Brown.

“You bet,” said his captain, “and we are the boys that can do it.”

“I feel just like having a nice little knock down and pick ’em up sort of little tea party,” said the tall, lanky stableman; “I’ve only had enough so far to make me hungry for a good square shindy, and I feel as though I could fairly walk through a good-sized crowd of hard nuts.”

“You’ll have enough to do, Jack,” said the young Mexican. “Sinyaro is a rascal—a big rascal, but he will fight like a tiger. While he lives his men will never give in, so I advise you to try and kill him off the first thing.”

“And spile all the illegant little ruction entirely?” roared Barney Shea, before Jack could say a word. “Be off wid ye, ye little haythen! Bedad, now that it is meself that knows what’s what, be my sowl, I’ll let the divilish thafe go out of me grasp if I should happen to put me purty paws upon him, so I would. Musha, my gad! would ye put a sudden ind to an illegant row?”

Pedro was silenced.

“Course not—course not,” glibly said Pomp, examining those deadly long-range revolvers. “Nebber do, sar, nebber do in the warld. What fo’ you tink we come all dis yar way if you is gwine to cut off de rumpus in de middle, eh, Massa Pedro? Dis yar fire-top gemmen and me we’se de rattlin’ gamecocks or dis yar party, we is; yes, sar, an’ don’t yer forget dat, nudder.”

“You shall have all the fun you want, my colored friend,” said Barry Brown; “but just now I want something solid to eat if I’m booked to do any work.”

Pedro spoke to several of his neighbors, and they speedily prepared meals for the hungry party.

Pomp, being blessed with remarkably powerful eyesight, was stationed upon one of the housetops to note the advent of the robber band, and there he sat eating and watching for over twenty minutes.

Then he caught sight of the gleam of arms, the bright hues of crimson and blue sashes and wraps, and soon made out a large mounted party coming through a small valley that lay a mile away.

“Dey’s comin’,” he shouted, and came down from his perch. “Dey’s trotting through the valley ’bout one mile away ober dar.”

“How many of them do you think in the party?” asked Frank, as he examined all parts of his machinery.

“Guess dar’s fully half hundred men on dem horses,” said Pomp. “Dey looks flashy too, I tell yer.”

“Where are the prisoners?”

“In de front ranks,” said Pomp.

“All right,” said Frank. “I’ve fixed the mode of attack. All I want you to do is to see that those old people are not murdered by the robbers when we make our charge. I give you the job because you are the best and quickest shot, and can use your eyes to effect.”

“Consider dem under dis chile’s special pertection,” said Pomp.

They now piled into the wagons, and stood ready for a start.

Soon the tramp of the on-coming troop of horsemen came to their ears, approaching at a rapid trot.

“Ready!” cried Frank.

“Ready!” yelled Charley.

“Go!” cried Harry Hale, and the reins were pulled.

Just as the robber band flashed into view the Steam Horse and the Steam Man rushed like living bolts to the rescue.