Easton whirled half-around and jammed his heels on to Jake Blue’s toes, while Hagen half-fell to his knees. Like a flash, Easton struck at Hashknife, and his bare knuckles came in contact with Hashknife’s heavy six-shooter.
Sleepy sprang in to prevent Blue from drawing a gun, and his knee caught Hagen just under the chin, knocking his head against the solid bar with a dull tunk! Easton’s right hand went out of commission and he stumbled awkwardly over Hagen’s legs, falling flat on the floor, while Sleepy pinned Blue’s arms in a bear-like hug, swung him up bodily and backed to the door. Hashknife backed swiftly out with him, covering the surprized crowd, which had no idea of what had been going on.
Once outside they went swiftly to the hitch-rack, with Sleepy still carrying the cursing sheriff.
“What’ll I do with him?” panted Sleepy. “I don’t want him.”
“Got his gun?” asked Hashknife.
“It’s back in the War-Bonnet.”
“Let him loose,” laughed Hashknife. “We ain’t collectin’ knick-knacks.”
Sheriff Blue sat down so heavily in the hard street that his tongue, for once, refused to function. Hashknife and Sleepy mounted swiftly and whirled back past the War-Bonnet, where men were crowding the doorway.
Spot Easton cursed bitterly as he saw them flash past the beams of yellow light, then he turned back to “Blondy” Hagen, who was still sitting in front of the bar, holding his head in his hands.
Easton’s right hand was deeply cut and swelling rapidly. He cursed it fluently and turned to see Jake Blue coming in, covered with dust, his face badly scratched.