“I'm going to put him for safe-keeping down the shaft of a mine my father and I own,” explained Steve. “He wouldn't be safe in the jail, because Dunke, for private reasons, has made up his mind to put out his lights.”
“Private reasons?” echoed the engineer.
“Mighty good ones, too. Ain't that right?” demanded the ranger of Struve.
The convict cursed, though his teeth still chattered with fright from the narrow escape he had had, but through his prison jargon ran a hint of some power he had over the man Dunke. It was plain he thought the latter had incited the lynching in order to shut the convict's mouth forever.
“Where is this shaft?” asked Neill.
“Up a gulch about half a mile from here.”
Fraser's eyes fixed themselves on a young man who passed on the run. He suddenly put his fingers to his lips and gave a low whistle. The running man stopped instantly, his head alert to catch the direction from which the sound had come. Steve whistled again and the stranger turned toward them.
“It's Brown, one of my rangers,” explained the lieutenant.
Brown, it appeared, had just reached town and stabled his horse when word came to him that there was trouble on the plaza. He had been making for it when his officer's whistle stopped him.
“It's all over except getting this man to safety. I'm going to put him down an abandoned shaft of the Jackrabbit. He'll be safe there, and nobody will think to look for him in any such place,” said Fraser.