Their mounts were not spent as was that of the hotel man.
"Don't shoot the fellow, if you can help it!" Tom Reade had called, as the horsemen swept by him.

"Rope Ashby if you can." Suddenly the hotel man's mount was seen to stagger slightly.

It was sufficient to pitch Ashby, who was not on his guard.
With wilder whoops the Arizona men spurred their ponies on.

There was a whirring of lariats and no less than three nooses had fallen over the hotel man's head.
There came a brief interval in which the men, swooping down on the captive, concealed him from the view of others.
Out of this crush soon came order.

Then it was seen that Ashby had been roped securely and was being led back to the railroad camp.
"We've got the scoundrel, with four ropes hitched to him," called one of the captors.
"One rope will be enough as soon as we can find a tree." The party was riding into the railroad camp now, and a dense crowd pressed forward to see the face of the keeper of the Mansion House.
Ashby was chuckling gleefully.