Martin Hawk looked over his shoulder into the dark interior of the hut, spoke to some one under his breath, and then began cursing his dogs.
"I might have knowed you'd git me into trouble, you lop-eared, sheep-killin' whelps!" he whined. "I'd ought to shot the hull pack of ye when you was pups. Git out'n my sight! There's yer sheep-stealers, sheriff,—them ornery, white-livered, blood-suckin'—"
"I don't know anything about that, Martin," snapped the sheriff. "All I know is, you got to come along with me,—peaceable or otherwise,—and I guess if you're half as smart as I think you are, you won't come otherwise. Here! Don't go back in that house, Hawk."
"Well, I got to tell my daughter—"
"We'll tell her. There's another man or two in there. Just tell 'em to step outside,—and leave their weapons behind 'em."
"There ain't a livin' soul in thar, 'cept my daughter,—so he'p me God, sheriff," cried Hawk, his teeth beginning to chatter. The sheriff was close enough to see the look of terror and desperation in his eyes.
"No use lyin', Hawk. You've got a man named Suggs stayin' with you. He ain't accused of anything, so he needn't be afraid to come out. Same applies to your daughter Moll. But I don't want anybody in there to take a shot at us the minute we turn our backs. Shake 'em out, Hawk."
"I tell ye there ain't nobody here but me an' Moll,—an' she's sick. She can't come out. An'—an' you can't go in,—not unless you got a warrant to search my house. That's what the law sez,—an' you know it. I'll go along with you peaceable,—an' stand my trial fer sheep-stealin' like a man. Lemme get my hat an' coat, an' I'll come—"
"I guess there's something queer about all this," interrupted the sheriff. The man beside him had just whispered something in his ear. "We'll take a look inside that cabin, law or no law, Hawk. Move up, boys!" he called out to the scattered men. "Keep your eyes skinned. If you ketch sight of a rifle ball comin' to'ards you,—dodge. And you, Martin, step outside here, where you won't be in the way. I'm going in there."
Martin Hawk looked wildly about him. On all sides were men with rifles. There was no escape. His craven heart failed him, his knees gave way beneath him and an instant later he was grovelling in the mud at the sheriff's feet.