She plunged away from Jim and caught Suma-theek's arm. The old Indian smiled and shoved her behind him. Jim turned and stood shoulder to shoulder with the Apache chief. "Now work back until we're against the power house with the hombres back of us," he said.
By the time the crowd was massed, yelling and gesticulating on three sides of it, the little group was backed up against the concrete wall of the little substation.
Jim waved his arm. "Go home, boys; go home! You can't do any lynching while the Apaches are here!"
"Give us the hombres, Boss!" shouted a threatening voice, "or we'll have to be rough on you."
"Send the lady home," called someone else. "This is no job for a lady to see."
"Boss," said Suma-theek in Jim's ear, "you send your squaw out. She go up mountain back of town, find Apache there, tell all Apaches bring guns, come here, help take hombres to jail."
Jim looked at Pen and his face whitened. But Pen's nostrils dilated and her eyes sparkled. Pen was Irish.
"I'll go," said Pen. "Where is Henderson?"
"He ought to be back," said Jim. "Try to find him after you get the Apaches. Send anybody down you can reach." Then he shouted to the crowd, "Let the lady out!"
Jim and Suma-theek stood well above most of the mob. Jim was unarmed and the crowd knew it. But even had any man there been inclined to prevent Pen's exit he would rather have done so under a cocked gun than under the look in Jim's white face as he watched Pen's progress through the crowd. The men gave back respectfully. As soon as she was free of the crowd, Pen broke into a run. She darted back behind the line of tents up onto the mountainside.