“But why?” the judge insisted.
“Judge, if yuh’ll have the sheriff leave town after dinner to-morrow night and ride straight toward Jaw Tooth Mountain, I’ll pick yuh up and show yuh where yuhr cattle is,” Allen said.
Argument was vain. Allen refused to mention even one member of the Lava Gang.
Slowly the little outlaw backed toward the door by which he had entered.
“Good night, gents,” he called. Then his eyes caught and held those of Snippets for a moment. “So long, kid,” he said softly. The door was empty and he was gone.
Allen had said that his enemies had learned he was to come there that night and were waiting for him outside. For a long moment those in the room waited, waited for the shot that would announce he had been discovered. Bill Anderson was the first to move. He picked up his hat and walked toward the front door, but Tom Powers reached it ahead of him. The sheriff shook his head.
“We promised before he came, that no one was to leave until he had been gone for ten minutes,” the sheriff explained.
For the fraction of a second Anderson held his ground before the sheriff. The impulse came to him to shout, then discretion gained the upper hand; he shrugged and returned to his place by the fireplace.
“He’s certainly a careful little cuss and doesn’t trust people,” he said with a laugh.
“Maybe if yuhr carcass was worth ten thousand you wouldn’t neither,” Sam Hogg snorted.