Dave Coons wove through the crowd then, saying, "Drift down to the Big Barrel, boys.... The Big Barrel next...."
Mr. Jay and Pete Madrid stood at a window of Mr. Jay's hotel suite and looked down at the street, which was nearly empty. They had watched the mob pour up the street from the Silver Slipper to the Big Barrel to the Western Star, which had completely swallowed it now. The window was open. Madrid held a rifle in his hands.
"It'll be over in a moment," Mr. Jay said tiredly.
Almost at once, the splash of shattered glass came to their ears. Mr. Jay closed the window.
"He's got to show himself sometime," Madrid protested.
"He's keeping to the alleys," Mr. Jay said, "taking no chances. Anyhow, the confusion is over and the chance is gone. The mob will mill around town for a while, then go back to camp."
Madrid put the rifle into a corner and loosened his revolver in its holster. "Then I'll go down and find him. Face to face, I can out-gun him, Mr. Jay."
"Pete, that mob would pick you to pieces."
Madrid stared absently at the street. Men were beginning to trickle out of the Western Star.