"For the last time, give up that man!" commanded Shan Rhue.
"No."
"Then we'll take him."
Kit had cut the old man's bonds, and thrust a revolver into his hand.
"Fight for your life," he said.
With a roar the mob was upon them. Revolvers were drawn, and as they rushed forward the dauntless three surrounded Norris—three against fifty.
"Halt!" cried Ted. "The first man to lay a hand on any of us is a dead one."
"Go on an' take him. I'll attend to the kid," shouted Shan Rhue.
"Get him!" "String him up!" "Lynch the old thief!"
These were the cries with which the mob advanced.