Of a sudden rocks began to whistle about Barney's head, and then one struck him, knocking him down. The nozzle of the hose fell from his hands, and he lay prone and motionless on the floor.
Wild yells of savage delight broke from the mob.
Then, with a clatter of hoofs, a band of masked horsemen came tearing down the street, whirled into the open space before the jail, and began shooting into the mob. The horsemen were dressed in black, and every man was masked.
"It's Black Harry's Braves!" screamed a voice that was full of fear.
Twenty voices took up the cry, and the mob, utterly demoralized, broke and ran in all directions.
Some of the masked horsemen sprang from their animals and dashed into the jail, springing over the prostrate body of the unconscious Irish lad.
Kildare was removing Frank from his cell when those masked men came upon them. In a moment the boy had been torn from the sheriff, and the men whirled him away.
Out of the jail rushed Black Harry's Braves, the boy was placed astride a horse, and away they went, with him in their midst.
Frank had believed them lynchers, and he thought them lynchers as they bore him away.
"It's all up with me," he mentally said.