“You never did!”
Mrs. Porter got to her feet and turned on Freel, who did not understand what it was all about.
“You never murdered nobody!”
Mrs. Porter fairly snorted her unbelief. “Yuh might ’a’ killed a man, but he had an even break with yuh, boy.”
Skeeter smiled and shook his head.
“Anyway, it’s too late t’ argue it, Mrs. Porter. How’s everybody in Sunbeam?”
Mrs. Porter did not seem interested in that question, for at that moment the shrill warning shriek of the locomotive whistle came to them, and they were all hurled into confusion, when the engineer threw his engine into reverse and opened the sand-box.
Mary Leeds and Mrs. Porter were thrown forward into the rear of the forward seat, while Skeeter Bill and Freel sprawled into each other in the aisle. There came a series of lurching jars which threatened to splinter the old coaches, and the train jerked to a standstill.
Freel and Skeeter were clawing blindly to get back on their feet when the rear door was flung open and two men came in—two masked men, carrying six-shooters. Freel lurched sidewise against the arm of a seat and whipped out a gun from his shoulder holster. One of the masked men fired at him, and the shot swung Freel back a trifle; but he fired deliberately, and the man who had shot him went down.
Another shot thudded into Freel; but he was shooting calmly, slowly; and the other man lurched back against the rear door, dropping his gun. His hat fell off, disclosing the long locks of Jimmy Longhair.