Peter Van Vechten was driving the car but he made no attempt to stop it. In fact, he seemed not to recognize their faces as he came toward them, and it was evident that Barney McGee unless he wanted to be run over would have to make haste to get out of the road, for the motor car was taking a very uncertain and rickety course on the highway.

Another half minute and they found themselves standing helplessly in the road, the automobile fifty yards away.

Barney, flourishing his pistol and digging his spurs into his horse was after it like a flash.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” they screamed. “We know him.”

But it was too late. There was the report of a pistol and the sound of the motor ceased almost instantly.

Rushing down the road, Billie in the lead, they found the car at a standstill, Peter Van Vechten lying out on the ground with Barney leaning over him.

“You’ve killed him,” cried Miss Campbell.

“No, no, ma’am. It was the tire I punctured, and not the thief. He fainted of his own accord.”

“But there is something the matter. He is injured,” exclaimed Mary. “Look at the bruise on his forehead.”

“Poor boy! Poor Peter,” said Miss Campbell, and immediately they all set to work to restore the aviator.

“Better take him back to the camp, ma’am,” suggested Barney, “and if you’ve got a bit of rope handy, we can bind him before he comes to.”

“Bind him?” they repeated.

“Why certainly, ladies, didn’t he rob you of your car? Automobile thieves in this country ain’t tolerated any more than horse thieves.”

It was difficult to keep reminding themselves that this nice young man was a thief. But visions of Miss Helen’s fifty dollars persisted in floating before them, and it occurred to them furthermore that he might be one of the most daring criminals in the country, since he had made good his escape from Chicago in an aeroplane.

“Lift him in the car, then,” ordered Miss Campbell in a resigned tone of voice. “But it’s hard to believe.”

“Caught with the goods, ma’am,” the cowboy assured her. “Caught red-handed with the goods on him.”

They took him back to the encampment in the maimed Comet, Barney following on his horse, and presently they had him securely bound, feet and hands, with stout pieces of cord.

“It seems a shame to bring the poor fellow back to life as a prisoner,” observed Miss Campbell, as she applied her bottle of smelling salts to Peter’s nose.

All this time Billie had remained silent. She was not so forgiving of Peter’s sins as the others. In fact, she marveled at their moderation.

“I’m sure I don’t see why he should go scot free any more than any other thief,” she said. “This is the second time he has robbed us, first of fifty dollars and then of the Comet——”

Barney McGee looked up at this and Peter himself opened his eyes and regarded them all steadily with what Mary described to herself as “a long brown look.”

“You’re caught, you see, young feller,” said Barney, smiling amiably. “You shouldn’t have doubled on your tracks. Sometimes that trick works, but not in this country of wise men.”

Peter looked into the lean brown face of the cowboy and smiled so delightfully, that immediately his captors felt the magnetism of his glance and stirred uncomfortably.

“What do you take me for, a thief?” he asked.

“What else are you, young man?” asked Barney. “Didn’t you steal upon five helpless and unprotected ladies in the night and take their automobile. And this ain’t the first time you’ve robbed them, either.”

Peter made a sudden effort to rise and fell back helplessly, finding himself bound hand and foot.

Then a look of recognition came into his eyes.

“It’s Miss Campbell and the young ladies,” he exclaimed. “So it was your automobile. I had no time to examine it, but I remembered the color was red.”

“If you are feeling quite yourself, now, young feller,” interrupted Barney, “I think we’ll be taking you along to the next village where we can leave you to be dealt with according to the law in these parts.”

“I suppose you won’t believe me, Miss Campbell,” began Peter in a rather weak voice, “but I give you my word of honor I’m not a thief. The real thief has my own car.”

“But who is the real thief?”

“I don’t know. I never saw him. I was sound asleep when some one gave me a stunning blow on the forehead. I don’t know whether I was unconscious hours or minutes. It seemed only minutes, only an instant, really when I was able to crawl out of my blankets and start up this red motor car. My one idea was to catch the thief, but the car was in bad shape, that was why he took mine, I suppose, and my head was so dizzy I hardly knew what I was doing.”

“That’s a queer tale, young man,” said the cowboy. “The only thing you’ve got to prove it’s true is the lump on your forehead.”

But Peter felt too ill to argue the subject. Miss Campbell was moved with pity by his condition.

“You are almost a boy,” she said. “I want to be charitable, but I do think you should be punished for having caused so much uneasiness of mind. Will you give me your word to reform——?”

“No,” interrupted Peter fiercely; “no, I’ll not give my word to you or anyone else. It’s absurd.”

“Do you think we don’t know who you are?” here put in Billie, whose anger had flamed up at the sight of his defiance and the memory of her beloved Comet snatched away in the night. “Do you think we haven’t heard how you escaped from Chicago with the police at your very heels? We might have thought there was some mistake even then, if Cousin Helen’s pocket book hadn’t disappeared along with you after we had taken you into the automobile. Fifty dollars it had in it. And now you come in the night and steal the Comet, and when you are caught you lay the blame on another man’s shoulders.”

Peter Van Vechten looked calmly into the faces of his accusers. Then suddenly he began to laugh.

“I have had bad luck this trip,” he said. He appeared to be talking to himself. “Nothing but disasters all the way.” He lay back and closed his eyes.

“There’s a cold blooded criminal for you,” said Barney McGee. “He’s the kind the East produces and sends out West to be finished off. A pretty finishing school you’ll find here, too, me boy.”

Peter laughed again.

Just then a drove of cattle passed, and at intervals vehicles and motor cars followed; also men on horseback and some walking.

“This is County Court Day,” observed Barney. “They’re all goin’ to the next town. Shall we turn the thief over to some of them or take him ourselves? One of you ladies will have to appear against him later.”

Miss Campbell looked uncomfortable.

“Dear, dear,” she exclaimed. “That means we shall have to go to court and give testimony and all that sort of thing. It may delay us ever so long.”

“No it won’t,” called the implacable Billie, who was now hard at work repairing the Comet. “We can just turn him over as an escaped convict.”

Peter looked at her with an expression of weary amusement, but said nothing. She did not trust herself to return his glance just then, but after that, every time she caught the cool brown look of his eye, like two clear pools in a forest, she felt a strange disturbance.

Miss Helen Campbell was of two minds and both minds were aggrieved. Nancy was all on Billie’s side. Elinor was still undecided. She was trying to be perfectly just, but it did seem to her that Peter Van Vechten, as he called himself, was in a very unfortunate predicament.

As for little Mary, her eyes had become two wells of pity and she was afraid to speak lest she betray her sympathy for the young man.

All morning Billie and Mary worked over the Comet. The thief, whether Peter or another, had repaired the machine enough for it to run with a good deal of rattling and rumbling, but the girls were not satisfied and they worked as hard over it as two young mechanics. The company lunched early from the contents of the hamper, and the prisoner’s hands were unbound in order that he might feed himself. Then he was bound again.

At noon the sun’s rays were exceedingly warm. Miss Campbell, with Nancy and Elinor, withdrew under a distant tree, with steamer rugs, and soon were sleeping soundly.

“How long before you’ve finished, Miss?” asked Barney of Billie. He had been their faithful guard all morning.

“In half an hour at the very least,” she had replied, and leaping on his small, swift horse, he cantered away, calling out:

“I’ll be back against the time you’ve finished.”

Billie was out under the car, absorbed in her work. The whole world seemed to be asleep in the stillness of noon. Mary looked about her fearfully. Then, with sudden resolution, she took a little silver penknife from her pocket and tiptoeing over to where the prisoner lay, bound and shackled, she quickly cut the twine.

“Don’t say anything,” she whispered to the astonished youth. “I don’t believe a word about your being a thief, and some day they will find out that they were mistaken, too. Once I was accused like that, and I know how you must feel. Hurry up, now, and go to the East, because Barney is riding the other way. Perhaps a wagon will pick you up.”

Peter Van Vechten seized her hand warmly in his.

“You’re a little brick,” he whispered.

“Take the cords with you,” she answered. “Then they won’t know.”

Another moment and he had made off down the road, and Mary went quietly back to her work.