"Here they come! They've got the thieves!" shouted several of the more excitable loungers.
From lip to lip, the word was passed along that the posse was returning with the miscreants who had stolen Consollas' roan and when the horsemen drew rein in front of the merchant's store they were greeted by every man, woman and child who was able to get to the square, on which all the shops were located.
Throwing their reins over their ponies' heads, the volunteers leaped to the ground and ran into Consollas' place of business, never pausing to answer the bombardment of questions hurled at them by the crowd when it was discovered that only part of the posse had returned and without any prisoners.
But the merchant was not in his shop.
"Where's your boss?" snapped one of the men of the frightened clerks who were gathered in one corner, watching the search of the intruders.
"He hasn't been here for two hours or more," responded one of them.
"Don't lie!"
"That's the solemn truth," asserted another. "He has not come back since he left just after Fred."
Satisfied that the employes were not deceiving them, the spokesman of the posse ordered four of his men to remain in the store, against the return of the elder Consollas, telling the others to follow him to the tent where the merchant had made his accusation and had been knocked unconscious by Jesse's terrific blow.