“Hit away!” he cried, tauntingly. “I know ’nough to swear out a warrant ’gainst you! ’T won’t be so lonesome for Jesse now breakin’ stones over to Sioux Falls.”
“Jim!” It was Gordon’s quiet, authoritative voice once more. “I told you I wanted you.” He threw his arm over the belligerent’s shoulder.
“Comin’, Dick. I didn’t mean to blab so much,” Jim answered, contritely.
They moved away. Sanderson followed them up.
“Dick Gordon,” he said with cool deliberateness, “you’re too damned anxious to stick your nose into other people’s affairs. Learn your lesson, will you? My favorite stunt is to teach meddlers how to mind their own business,—this way.”
It was not a fair blow. Gordon doubled up with the force of the punch in his stomach. In a moment all was confusion. Men drew their pistols. It looked as if there was to be a free-for-all fight.
Langford sprang to his friend’s aid, using his fists with plentiful freedom in his haste to get to him.
“Never mind me,” whispered Gordon. He was leaning heavily on Jim’s shoulder. His face was pale, but he smiled reassuringly. There was something very sweet about his mouth when he smiled. “Never mind me,” he repeated. “Get the girls out of this—quick, Paul.”
Mary and Louise had sought refuge behind the big table.
“Quick, the back door!” cried Langford, leading the way; and as the three passed out, he closed the door behind them, saying, “You are all right now. Run to the hotel. I must see how Dick is coming on.”