He caught a glimpse of the lantern and could see that it was held in the hands of a man. There were other men out there, too. Bud halted.
"Nobody left in there," argued a voice, which he knew belonged to Bull Cook. "Whatsa use of stayin' here?"
"I'm be not so sure," replied another. "Conley not get out ahead of us, and, ba gosh, he never get up de stairs. W'ere is Joe Burgoyne?"
"Must 'a' gone up the other way. What's all the yellin' about?"
Bud knew that the yelling must be from those at the burning hotel.
"We stay here," declared the man. "Dis be one damn bad night for Kingsburg, eh?"
"Yeah, I reckon we gotta drift, Frenchy. I hope that Joe nails that dirty spy."
Bud knew that there was no time to lose, if he was going to get away. There were two men guarding the tunnel, but two men would be easier to handle than that whole mob, which might appear at any time.
He gripped Joe tightly in his arms, half burying his face in Joe's back, and stumbled straight into the lantern light.
"De place be on fire," he stated, imitating the language and tone of a French-Canadian.