“Sit down! Sit down, everybody!” shouted the judge. He pounded on his desk. “Bojarquez! Ross! Foster! Come up here. I make you deputies. Get this crowd out or get order.”
The deafening turmoil stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
“Gwinne, arrest those two men for the murder of Adam Forbes,” ordered Hinkle.
“Well, gee-whiz, I’d say they was under arrest now. Here, gimme them.” He reached down and handcuffed Weir and Hales together. “How’s Caney, Dines? Dead?”
Johnny knelt by the fallen man. “Dead as a door nail. Three shots. Did he get you anywhere, See?”
“No. He was just one-sixteenth of a second too late.” Charlie See looked hard at the cylinder of his gun. He had fired only two shots. “Pete, it’s a wonder he didn’t hit you. You was right in line.”
“I wasn’t there,” said Pete dryly. “Not when the bullets got there. Not good enough.”
Gwinne and Maginnis took the two prisoners to jail, by the back door.