Without a word, fearing Cimarron Bill might discover he had shot the wrong man and seek to rectify his bad work, Frank lifted File in his muscular arms and ran into a store with him.
The city marshal was stretched on a counter.
"Send for a doctor!" commanded Merry. "And turn out a posse to take Cimarron Bill. He fired the shot."
At the mention of Cimarron Bill, however, consternation reigned. The desperado was all too well known in Holbrook, and scarcely a man in all the place cared to face him.
"No use," said File faintly. "Nobody'll dare touch Bill. He'll get out of town deliberately without being molested."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Merry. "Why, you don't mean to say they will let that murderous hound escape?"
"He'll escape now that I'm flat. There's not a man in Holbrook that dares face him."
"You're mistaken!" said Merry. "There is one man!"
"What one?"