Jellup's right hand was on his revolver.
"I ain't hyar to make no threats," he exclaimed, "and ye don't need to be afeered that I'm going to shoot ye. But I've got just one other little proposition. Ef ye don't cotton to that, why, thar ain't agoin' to be no Fourth o' July balloon ascension around hyar."
Ned straightened up.
"Your proposition can't be a fair one or you wouldn't come like a thief at this time of night—"
Jellup's pistol flashed in the air but fell back again as the marshal's left hand shot upward and struck Ned full in the face. Even as the tears sprang into the bound boys eyes and pain and anger flushed his pallid face, the cowardly Jellup fell backward and stumbled to the floor. Alan, standing just behind the man, had shot his knees forward, striking Jellup's legs in the hollow of his knees, and, thrown off his balance, the westerner lay sprawling on the floor. Before the marshal's confederate could interfere, Alan, tightly as he was bound, had flung himself on top of Jellup and with all the power he could throw into the act had butted his head into the marshal's face.
Am oath and a cry of pain indicated how true the stroke had been. Both Ned and the companion of Jellup sprang forward at the same time and the four fell in a silent distorted heap. But the encounter was unequal. In another moment both boys were lying side by side on the floor and their captors stood over them. Even in the half light of the little room both boys could see the blood-smeared cheek of the marshal.
Jellup's hand was on Domingo's arm holding him back from further attack on the helpless boys and the marshal was restraining his anger as a snake withholds its venom until it strikes.
"Purty good," sneered the marshal, "and the funny thing is ye hain't got a bullet through ye fur it. But my business ain't with dead ones. Onct more, air ye goin' to say what ye'r a plannin' to do?"
"Since it doesn't concern you in the least," said Ned, slowly, "no."
Jellup was silent a moment.