"That," said a comrade, "sounds far more sensible than it is. The Sergeant's troopers can't do anything. There aren't enough of them. And there's the frontier near enough for the boys to skip out across. Well, it may be some time before the police bosses get a move on—it usually is—and in the meanwhile we'll have every tough in the country standing in with the whisky men. While we lie quiet, they're going to get bolder."
Just then Leland turned sharply in his chair, and the others, who noticed it, leant towards the window. It was wide open and there was no light in the room. Outside, the green transparency was just fading into the soft blueness of early dusk. Nobody else had heard anything, but Leland's figure was outlined against the last of the light, and there was an ominous tenseness and expectancy in his attitude. They waited a moment, though none of them knew exactly why, until a little square object, which had evidently entered by the window, struck the table.
In another moment Leland had swung himself out by the narrow window, which was some distance from the floor. Then there was a crash outside, and the rest made for the outer door on the opposite side of the building. There was no sign of anybody when they reached it, but two of them heard a beat of receding hoofs. The rider did not seem to be in any great haste, and they fancied he was rather bent upon slipping away quietly. Then Leland appeared again, limping, and beckoned them back to the room, where he lighted the lamp before he sat down. His face was drawn.
"I wasn't exactly careful how I went out, and came down hard on my elbow and my knee," he said. "It took all the running out of me, and the fellow evidently had his horse ready. Before we could get a horse saddled, he'd be 'most two miles away. Well, we'll see what he has sent me, though I have a notion what it is."
He opened the little packet, and took out a pistol bullet. "That may have been meant to weight it, or quite as likely as a hint. Now, I'll tell you what he says."
One of them moved the lamp for him, and there was close attention as he read the note that had been wrapped about the bullet: "'Let up before you get hurt. You have had two warnings, but it's going to be different with the third one. There's a man or two on your trail who mean business.'"
He flung the note on the table with a little contemptuous laugh. "I think it's genuine, and he means well, but I'm going on."
"That's not very clear to me," said one of his companions.
"It's quite easy. The rustlers are there for the money and aren't anxious for trouble, though, if it's necessary, they are quite willing to make it. That, I figure, is the view of most of them. But they had a man killed not long ago, and it's probably different with one or two of his friends. Unless the others freeze them off, they may undertake to run me down for the fun of the thing."
There was a murmur of sympathy and agreement, and Leland saw that the rest were watching him curiously.