“Stop!”
“Rance, you don’t know what you’re sayin’,” resented Nick, casting hard looks at him; while Sonora put a heavy hand upon the Sheriff and threatened him with:
“Now, Rance, you stop that!”
“We’ll hear every word he has to say,” insisted the Sheriff, doggedly.
“You bet!” affirmed Trinidad.
“Nick! Nick!” called the Girl once more, and while the little barkeeper went over to admit her the Wells Fargo Agent took his leave, calling back after him:
“Well, boys, you’ve got him safe—I can’t wait—I’m off!”
“Dep, untie the prisoner! Boys, circle round the bar! Trin, put a man at that door! And Sonora, put a couple of men at those windows!” And so swift were the men in carrying out his instructions, that even as he spoke, everyone was at his post, the Sheriff himself and Sonora remaining unseen but on guard at the doors, while the prisoner, edging up close to the door, was not in evidence when the Girl entered.
“You can think of something to tell her—lie to her,” had been the Sheriff’s parting suggestion.
“I’ll let her think I risked coming back to see her again,” had replied the prisoner, his throat trembling.