Mizzoo, mistaking his coming for a general rush, had hastily relocked the door, and he and Wilfred defended themselves with drawn revolvers.
"I ain't up here to do no harm," called the ex-highwayman. "I ain't got the spirit for warfare. My chief is killed, my pards is dead. Even that innocent stage-driver what knew nothing of us, is killed in the attack that Brick Willock made on us in the dark and behind our backs. How're you going to grow when the whole world knows you ain't nothing but a den of snakes? You may claim it's all Brick Willock. I say if he's bigger than the town, if he murders and stabs and you can't help it, then the town ain't as good as him. My life's in danger. I don't know if I'll draw another breath. What kind of a reputation is that for you to send abroad? There's a man in this jail can tell you where Willock's hiding. Good day!"
The speaker was down the steps in two leaps, and the deputies drew aside to let him pass out. Civic pride, above all, civic ambition, had been touched to the quick. A hoarse roar followed the speech, and cries for Bill grew frantic. Mizzoo, afraid to unlock the door, stared at Wilfred in perplexity.
"I told you they had civilization on the brain," he muttered. "The old times are past. I daresn't make a move toward that lock."
"Drop the keys behind you—I'll get 'em," Wilfred murmured. "Step a little forward. Say something to 'em."
"Ain't got nothing to say," growled Mizzoo, glaring at the mob. "These boys are in the right of it, that's how I feel—cuss that obstinate old bobcat! it's his own fault if they string him up."
"Here they come!" Wilfred exclaimed.
"Steady now, old Mizzoo—we've whipped packs of wolves before today—coyotes crazy with hunger—big gray loafers in the rocks—eh, Mizzoo?" He shouted to the deputies who had been pushed against the railing: "Give it to 'em, boys!"
But the deputies did not fire, and the mob, though chafing with mad impatience, did not advance. It was a single figure that swept up the steps, unobstructed, aided, indeed, by the mass of packed men in the street—a figure slight and erect, tingling with the necessity of action to which every vein and muscle responded, tingling so vitally, so electrically, that the crowd also tingled, not understanding, but none the less thrilled.
"Lahoma!" Wilfred was at her side. "You here!"