There was a howl of execration from the bar.
“Boys, I vouch to Cloudy for Mr. Johnson”
It moved the Girl to instant action. Quick as thought she turned and strode to where the cries were the most menacing—towards the boys who knew her best and ever obeyed her unquestioningly.
“Wait a minute!” she cried, holding up her hand authoritatively. “I know the gent!”
The men exchanged incredulous glances; from all sides came the explosive cries:
“What’s that? You know him?”
“Yes,” she affirmed dramatically; and turning now to Rance with a swift change of manner, she confessed: “I didn’t tell you—but I know ’im.”
The Sheriff started as if struck.
“The Sacramento shrimp by all that is holy!” he muttered between his teeth as the truth slowly dawned upon him.