“No,” replied Lord Ralles. “And, as the lights keep moving in the town, they must still be hunting for him.”
“I reckon they’ll do considerable more huntin’ before they find him up there,” chuckled the man, with a self-important manner. “He’s hidden away under this ere platform.”
“Not right here?” I heard Madge cry, but I had too much to do to take in what followed. I was lying close to the loose plank, and even before the station-master had completed his sentence I was squirming through the crack. As I freed my legs I heard two shots, which I knew was the signal given by the cowboys, followed by a shriek of fright from Madge, for which she was hardly to be blamed. I was on my feet in an instant and ran down the tracks at my best speed. It wasn’t with much hope of escape, for once out from under the planking I found, what I had not before realized, that day was dawning, and already outlines at a distance could be seen. However, I was bound to do my best, and I did it.
Before I had run a hundred feet I could hear pursuers, and a moment later a revolver cracked, ploughing up the dust in front of me. Another bullet followed, and, seeing that affairs were getting desperate, I dodged round the end of some cars, only to plump into a man running at full speed. The collision was so unexpected that we both fell, and before I could get on my feet one of my pursuers plumped down on top of me and I felt something cold on the back of my neck.
“Lie still, yer sneakin’ coyote of a road agent,” said the man, “or I’ll blow yer so full of lead that yer couldn’t float in Salt Lake.”
I preferred to take his advice, and lay quiet while the cowboys gathered. From all directions I heard them coming, calling to each other that “the skunk that shot the woman is corralled,” and other forms of the same information. In a moment I was jerked to my feet, only to be swept off them with equal celerity, and was half carried, half dragged, along the tracks. It wasn’t as rough handling as I have taken on the football-field, but I didn’t enjoy it.
In a space of time that seemed only seconds, I was close to a telegraph-pole; but, brief as the moment had been, a fellow with a lariat tied round his waist was half-way up the post. I knew the mob had been told that I had killed a woman in the hold-up, for the cowboy, bad as he is, has his own standards, beyond which he won’t go. But I might as well have tried to tell my innocence to the moon as to get them to listen to denials, even if I could have made my voice heard.
The lariat was dropped over the crosspiece, and as a man adjusted the noose a sudden silence fell. I thought it was a little sense of what they were doing, but it was merely due to the command of Baldwin, who, with Camp, stood just outside the mob.
“Let me say a word before you pull,” he called, and then to me he said, “Now will you give up the property?”
I was pretty pale and shaky, but I come of stiffish stock, and I wouldn’t have backed down then, it seemed to me, if they had been going to boil me alive. I suppose it sounds foolish, and if I had had plenty of time I have no doubt my common-sense would have made me crawl. Not having time, I was on the point of saying “No,” when the door of 218, which lay about two hundred yards away, flew open, and out came Mr. Cullen, Fred, Albert, Lord Ralles, and Captain Ackland, all with rifles. Of course it was perfect desperation for the five to tackle the cowboys, but they were game to do it, all the same.