The men looked uncertainly at one another. It would be a simple matter for any armed person inside to put a bullet through the first head that showed itself. The sheriff evidently had no relish for the prospect and did not care to designate any one for the job. He turned to Marlin.
"You go in there," he ordered.
"Tell your buddies they'll save trouble by bein' reasonable. Tell 'em to pass the Kid out. If they don't we'll toss a few tear gas bombs inside. You gonna do it?"
"What else can I do?"
With some forcible assistance from behind, Marlin worked his way down the tube. At the inner edge, hands grasped him by the shoulders and helped him to land on a floor of some kind.
"You tell 'em what I said!" came the sheriff's voice. "No stalling!"
His eyes unaccustomed to the darkness, Marlin allowed himself to be guided along some sort of a wooden platform. It slanted at an angle which made walking difficult. The guiding hands proved to be DuChane's.
"This is a hell of a mess," the latter breathed. "What's to be done?"
"Give up the outlaw. We're trapped in here like rats," Marlin answered. "If we don't come through, they'll toss in tear bombs. Can any of you imagine what that would be like in this place?"
"Leave it to that fool Sally!" McGruder said harshly.