“We want the man who’s been befriending Billy Gee,” cried the first speaker. “Are you opening this door or do we break it in?”
At this juncture Lex stepped into the hall. Lemuel stood half dressed, pale with fright, holding a candle in one trembling hand. Dot, clad in a dressing gown, her thick, wavy hair tumbled charmingly over her shoulders, her eyes glinting with a strange fire, was standing before the door, firmly gripping a six-shooter. Huddled up against the wall, some distance back, was Mrs. Liggs wringing her thin hands distractedly.
“The man who tries to come in here, dies! Do you understand that?” called out the girl in harsh tones.
A wild jeer went up. The mob howled for action, and heavy shoulders started heaving against the panels. Dot fired. The bullet tore through the lintel, whined spitefully over the heads of the crowd.
“Atta boy! Now, altogether! Get the back door, Shorty!” bellowed the leader.
The front door bulged and creaked under a second attack, and again Dot fired. A howl of rage broke from one of the men. There was a mad scramble out of range.
“Smoke ’em out! Smoke ’em out!” rose the furious cry.
“Good Lord! They’re goin’ to burn down the house,” wailed Lemuel hysterically.
“Say, men!” shouted Lex. “There’s some mistake. This is Sangerly of the Mohave & Southwestern speaking. I’ll vouch for Mr. Huntington. He’s never had any friendly relations with this outlaw——”
“Is that so, Sangerly?” sneered the leader of the mob. “Well, you’re not such a wise guy as you think you are. Huntington was entertaining Billy Gee here this evening. He’s been hanging out at this ranch right along. Say, Huntington, are you delivering yourself up, or do we burn you out?”