"Shut him up, Bill," shouted one fellow.
"Cal's right," called another.
"Don't let 'em fool ye, Bill; we come fer a redskin, and we'll have him or burn the town."
Calvin had a revolver in each hand, and on his face was a look that meant war.
Curtis called to Lawson. "Take the women in, quick!" He feared shooting among the leaders of the mob. "Don't shoot, Calvin. Keep the peace."
With tears of impotent rage filling her eyes, Elsie retreated towards the office under Lawson's care. Curtis stepped to the side of the leader. "Silence your gang," he said.
Yarpe raised his bellowing voice. "Keep quiet, there! I'll settle this thing in a minute."
"Keep back!" commanded the sheriff.
The crowd fell back a little, with Calvin crowding them hard, revolver in hand. "No more funny business with me," he said, and death blazed from his eyes. "Get back!"
Quiet having been restored, the sheriff, Curtis, and Yarpe were revealed in animated argument. Curtis was talking against time—every moment was precious.