“Hello, there! Here’s somebody! Who are you?”
The yearlings shrank back in alarm, that is, all of them except Bull. Bull pressed forward eagerly, and a moment later found himself surrounded by a group of men, armed with sticks and all sorts of weapons. One of them, a tall man with the lantern and a shotgun in his other hand, walked up to Bull and peered into his face.
“What are you doing—” he began, but Bull was in too much of a hurry to let him finish.
“You the sheriff?” he demanded.
“Yes, I am.”
“Hunting for those lunatics, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, come on, then, quick as you can, for I know where they are.”
And then the yearlings realized what Bull Harris meant to do.
“How do you know?” demanded the officer.