“Yes. I'm sick of Jim Duff. This night has turned me against the smooth-tongued coward.”
“Get busy, then, Rafe!”
“Shall we stand the crowd off and set the boys free?”
“Pump both of your shooting-irons loose into the air—I'll do the rest,” replied Moore.
Cr-r-r-rack! Pointing his weapons skyward, Bodson had quickly obeyed Moore's command.
“Now, what—” began one of the raiders, wheeling instantly.
“Rafe's going to give 'em a proper send off,” grinned one of Duff's men.
“No!” shouted the other. “That's a bluff. He and Jeff are trying to queer the whole game.”
With cries of anger, several of the men sprang toward Jeff, who had bared his sheath knife and was about to free Tom and Harry.
“Here—stop that, you traitors!” roared Duff, leaping forward.