This walking through a settlement behind a man at whose head a cocked revolver is held, naturally created considerable excitement, and Jet found himself surrounded by a curious throng before he had reached the main street.
The thought occurred to him that among these people might be friends of his prisoner, and his anxiety became even greater than while they were in the woods.
He was overwhelmed with questions; but refused to make any explanations, asking simply that some one would show him the nearest magistrate's office, and his silence served to anger the crowd.
"Are we going to let a boy walk through this town with his revolver at a man's head?" one of the party shouted, angrily, and Joe's face lighted up wonderfully.
"I'm an innocent man whom a party of villains are trying to down," he cried. "If there are any here who like fair play, take me along decently, rather than in this style. I can explain who and what I am."
"Shove that boy out of the way!" another member of the crowd shouted, and Jet believed his prisoner was about to be rescued.
Drawing his second revolver, he held it in his left hand, as he said firmly:
"This fellow has nearly killed a detective who was sent to arrest him, and I have the proof of that in my pocket, which I will show to the magistrate. My orders were to deliver him up to justice, and make sure he didn't give me the slip. If any one interferes, I shall fire first at the prisoner, and then at him who dares try to help him."
Just for an instant the crowd fell back, and then the man who had first spoken, cried angrily:
"Hasn't somebody got the nerve to knock that cub down? I'll see to it that the prisoner is taken before the magistrate in a proper manner."