Before any one had time to call the doctor from his labors with the other two men Skeeter came back in with Kales. He placed him with Freel and went back without a word.
“My God!” exclaimed the judge piously. “What next?”
Back came Skeeter Bill again. This time he was carrying Roper Bates, and following him was Mary Leeds. Skeeter placed Roper on the floor and stood aside as the doctor came bustling through the crowd, answering some one’s hail.
Men looked queerly at Skeeter, but no one made any move to interfere with his freedom. Swiftly the doctor worked in his examination. Bowen, Orson and Van Cleve moved close together and watched closely, hoping against hope that Kales had not, and would not, tell what he knew.
“Any chance for them, doctor?” asked the judge.
“Yes, I think so. Freel is badly hurt, but is suffering mostly from loss of blood. This other man—” indicating Bates—“has been hit twice, but I think he will recover. This third man has a nasty hole in his shoulder, and he appears to have lost nearly all the fingers on his right hand. Perhaps his pistol exploded. Who is he?”
“Name’s Kales,” said a bystander. “Hired gunman.”
Kales stirred and opened his eyes, looking curiously up at the circle of faces.
“Did it stop?” he whispered weakly. “The train?”
“It stopped in time,” said the judge.