Nor did they come in a wholly straight line. That they did not suspect the nearness of Jim Duff and his mad companion was plain at a glance.
“Burrow in the sand!” whispered the gambler in Ashby's ear. “Quiet! Be ready, but don't do anything unless I give you the word.”
“When you do give me the word,” trembled the hotel man, “I'll kill 'em both.”
“Not unless we have to do so—remember!” ordered the gambler. “We want, if possible, to take 'em alive.”
Let us now go back to the two men whom Duff and Ashby were watching so closely.
They were Rafe Bodson and Jeff Moore.
Both had come out of the recent fighting unharmed. Neither Rafe nor Jeff had fired a shot at the invading forces led by Hawkins. Instead, the pair had slipped stealthily away, until they had gotten out of the immediate zone of the hot firing. Then they hid under some bushes.
“An hour ago I'd have felt like a sneak, not standing by the gang any better,” whispered Jeff uneasily.
“Same here,” Rafe admitted. “In fact, I'm wondering whether I acted straight in running off like this.”
“Aren't you sure about it in your own mind?” asked Jeff slowly.