“But surely that means a row,” said Dallas, as a roar of voices came from the canvas building.
“No; that’s about a robbery on the track. Three men came in to-day, and they’re telling the lads how they were attacked and half killed. The Vigilants are strong here to-night, and there’ll be business if the fellows are caught. We don’t stand any nonsense here.”
“Shall we go in, Bel?” whispered Dallas.
“Yes; we needn’t stay long,” was the reply. “I want to talk to that man with the gold.”
“This way, gentlemen,” said the bar-keeper. “You follow me.”
The pair followed the man into the long low place, along each side of which were trestle tables crowded with men drinking and smoking, the tobacco fumes nearly filling the place like a fog. There was a gangway down the centre, and they followed their guide nearly to the end, when both started violently at the sight of a group of three men seated at a table beneath the largest swinging lamp, whose reflector threw a bright light down on the biggest of the party, who was on his legs, waving his pipe as he talked loudly.
“You’re making a mistake, mates,” he said. “It’s just as I telled you, and if it hadn’t been for the pluck of my pals here we should have been dead as well as robbed. But you mark my words; they’ll make for here, and if they do—ah, what did I say? Look, mates, look; this here’s the very pair.”
There was a wild shout of rage, as every man in the place seemed to leap to his feet; and before, utterly stunned by the sudden attack and denunciation, either of the new-comers could find words to utter in their defence, they were seized and dragged to their knees.