“No officer ever loses anything by being fair,” King said. “Now,” he went on, “I’m trusting to the honor of you boys, and I want you to do the right thing by me. I’m going to take off the irons and let the prisoners move about as they please, and—”
“If you do,” roared Ike, “I’ll have a man down here to watch ’em! I’ll have the boys out for a lynching! I’ll show you that no eastern sleuth can come here and run this county.”
“Will you remain here while this other man goes for the coroner?” asked King, paying no attention to the threats of the angry man.
“It is my duty,” answered the other, sullenly.
King unlocked the handcuffs and told the boys to wait while he entered the house. He was gone some minutes, and when he returned his face showed more excitement than the boys had ever before seen there.
“Come on, boys,” he exclaimed, without noticing the others, “we’ll get back to the Rambler. It has been some time since I have been aboard the good old craft.”
“I hope they’ll get away from you!” howled Ike.
“I’ll see that they don’t get out of the country if they do!” Flint cried out. “I’ll see that they get what’s coming to them!”
Without paying the slightest attention to the oaths and sneers of the two, King and the boys moved off down the incline, and, after hours of hard walking, came out on the bank where the Rambler lay.
“Now,” King said, as they all stood looking at each other with questioning eyes, “we’ve got as strange a murder case to handle as ever Holmes undertook to straighten out!