Noddy repeated them.
“I’d give a good bit to see Pud Stoneham just now,” remarked the officer, in a peculiar voice. “But I guess he don’t want to see me.”
“I’ll tell you where you can find him,” spoke Jerry, quickly, surmising how the land lay.
“Where? Tell me, quick, boy! Are you tryin’ to fool me?”
In a few words Jerry told about the mine, and how he had left his friends besieged there by the gambler and his companions.
“It’s our mine, and I tried to file the claim before Noddy Nixon did,” finished Jerry.
“And you’ll do it yet,” said the sheriff, heartily. “Here,” he called to the crowd, which came to a halt, “this case is adjourned indefinitely.”
“Ain’t there goin’ to be a trial?” asked several, disappointed in what they thought would furnish excitement.
“Not now,” replied the officer. “This boy, Jerry Hopkins, is paroled in my custody. Noddy Nixon is paroled in the custody of Bill Lamson, an’ I’ll appoint you a special deputy for the occasion, Bill. You take charge of Noddy until sundown, when you kin let him go. An’, mind, if he escapes I’ll court-martial you, Bill.”
“He won’t git away,” said the new deputy, confidently.