A rifle cracked.
Pete Dinsmore whirled on Gurley angrily. "What you do that for?"
Malice, like some evil creature, writhed in Gurley's face. "It's that fellow Roberts. We got him right at last. Leggo my arm."
"I'll beat yore head off if you shoot again. Lucky for you you missed. Don't you see he comes here as a messenger. Ellison musta sent him."
"I don' care how he comes. He'll never go away except feet first." The man who had been horsewhipped by the Ranger was livid with rage.
Dinsmore swung him round by the shoulder savagely. "Who elected you boss of this outfit, Steve? Don't ride on the rope or you'll sure git a fall."
The eyes of Pete were blazing. Gurley gave way sullenly.
"Tha's all right. I ain't aimin' noways to cross you. I can wait to git this fellow if you say so."
The Ranger had pulled up his horse and was waving the improvised flag. Pete gave directions.
"Homer, you an' Dave go down an' find out what he wants. Don't bring him in unless you blindfold him first. We don't wanta introduce him to the place so as he can walk right in again any time."