“That's easy. I will not.”
The mob leader turned to the Tennessean. “Young man, I don't know who you are, but if you mean to butt into a quarrel that ain't yours all I've got to say is that you're hunting an early grave.”
“We'll know about that later, seh.”
“You stand pat, do you?”
“Well, seh, I draw to a pair that opens the pot anyhow,” answered Larry, with a slight motion of his weapons.
Dunke fell back into the mob, a shot rang out into the night, and the crowd swayed forward. But at that instant the door behind Fraser swung open. A frightened voice sounded in his ear.
“Quick, Steve!”
The ranger slewed his head, gave an exclamation of surprise, and hurriedly threw his prisoner into the open passage.
“Back, Larry! Lively, my boy!” he ordered.
Neill leaped back in a spatter of bullets that rained round him. Next moment the door was swung shut again.