A thirty-two stung Comanche Tony in the cheek.
Throwing his Winchester to his shoulder he shot the man who had wounded him, dead.
The citizens answered with a volley. At that the desperadoes pumped their magazines, into the crowd, until they were emptied and then released their revolvers from their holsters began fanning the mad mob with deadly effect.
Jesse, having secured the gunny sack firmly to his saddle, and so that it might not impede his movements, rode still leisurely along.
Suddenly he espied Frank running down the steps of the store. Like his younger brother, Frank also bore a gunny sack and from the manner in which Frank was carrying it, Jesse understood that his brother had succeeded in his mission of plunder.
Frank swung into his saddle under a perfect storm of bullets.
With a wild whoop and a savage yell the great desperado and his immediate companions dug the rowels of their spurs into their horses and charged down on the crowd.
The mob taken suddenly by surprise at this attack on their flank, ceased firing and fell swiftly back.
"Forward!" roared the great desperado.
Frank and his men heard and understood.