Houck observed that the big cowpuncher was nervous. The hand hitched in the sagging belt was trembling.
“Don’t weaken, Dave,” he said in a whisper out of the corner of his mouth. “We’ll be outa town in ten minutes.”
“Sure,” agreed the other in a hoarse murmur.
Houck sauntered to the cage. This was a recent importation from Denver. Bear Cat was proud of it as an evidence of progress. It gave the bank quite a metropolitan air.
He stood behind the cattleman, the wall at his back so that his broad shoulders brushed it. Jake had no intention of letting any one get in his rear.
“Stick yore hands up!” he ordered roughly.
The cattleman did not turn. His hands went up instantly. A half a second later those of the startled cashier lifted toward the ceiling.
The assistant made a bad mistake. He dived for the revolver in the desk close at hand.
Houck fired. The bank clerk dropped.
That shot sent panic through the heart of Sturgis. He bolted for the side door. A second shot from Houck’s weapon did not stop him. A moment more, and he was on the street racing to spread the alarm.