“I ain’t got no idea—don’t even know what he looks like. But I did hear once that a gent in Texas who was called ‘Cupid Dart’ was a son of the Devil.”
“The two-gun sheriff and bad man?”
“The same.”
Briefly Allen told the sheriff about the death list he had heard the unknown man read out in the secret room.
“Two nights from now yuh have Tim Lynch, the Hogg brothers, Doc Robinson an’ yourself meet me at the judge’s, an’ I’ll have somethin’ to tell yuh,” he promised. “An’ yuh can warn them gents that the bunch they calls the Lava Gang is goin’ to down ’em, ’cause if they can get the judge’s crowd out of the way, they can run things as they choose. With Anderson controllin’ the white vote, and the Toad the greaser vote, they’d sure break this country wide open and plenty. Yuh and yuhr friends be careful.”
The sheriff shook his head. As yet they had no proof against their enemies. Yet there was something in the matter-of-fact way Allen spoke that made him hope their difficulties would be over soon.
“Yuh got a back door here?” Allen asked.
The sheriff led him to the small door that opened into a vacant lot behind the jail.
“Yuh tell Dutchy not to let Snippets out of his sight,” Allen gave his final warning. He vanished into the night.
Scarcely had the door closed on him when some one pounded on the front door. The sheriff opened it to an excited news bearer.