"Hang onto hell!" snapped back the sheriff. "Short of sleeping in here with him, I done all that could be expected. I put Shorty Rumbold on as guard, and Shorty—"
"Where's Shorty?"
"Went to the Starlight for a drink. He'll be along in a minute."
"Maybe he went to sleep," suggested Dolan.
"Not Shorty," denied the sheriff, with a decisive shake of his head.
"I've used Shorty before. He don't go to sleep on duty, Shorty don't.
Here he is now."
Entered then Shorty Rumbold, a tall, lean-bodied man with a twinkling eye and a square chin.
"Shorty," said Dolan, "Jake says he put you on guard here last night."
"Not here," said Shorty, always painfully meticulous as to facts.
"Outside."
"Where outside?"
"Just outside. I sat on the doorstep all night."