“Go over an’ put your hoss up in the shed
behind the jail,” said Rogers, fighting for
time, “an’ when you come back I’ll
have the order written out an’ give it to you
with the key.”
“Why not come over with me now?”
“I got some other business.”
“In five minutes I’ll be back,”
said Dan, and left the house.
Outside he whistled to Satan, and the stallion trotted
up to him. He swung into the saddle and rode
to the jail. There was not a guard in sight.
He rode around to the other side of the building to
reach the stable. Still he could not sight one
of those shadowy horsemen who had surrounded the place
a few minutes before. Perhaps the crowd had called
in the guards to join the attack.
He put Satan away in the stable and as he led him
into a stall he heard a roar of many voices far away.
Then came the crack of half a dozen revolvers.
Dan set his teeth and glanced quickly over the half-dozen
horses in the little shed. He recognized the tall
bay of Lee Haines at once and threw on its back the
saddle which hung on a peg directly behind it.
As he drew up the cinch another shout came from the
street, but this time very close.
When he raced around the jail he saw the crowd pouring
into the house of the deputy sheriff. He ran
on till he came to the outskirts of the mob.
Every man was masked, but in the excitement no one
noticed that Dan’s face was bare. Squirming
his way through the press, Dan reached the deputy’s
office. It was almost filled. Rogers stood
on a chair trying to argue with the cattlemen.
“No more talk, sheriff,” thundered one
among the cowpunchers, “we’ve had enough
of your line of talk. Now we want some action
of our own brand. For the last time: Are
you goin’ to order Lewis an’ Patterson
to give up Haines, or are you goin’ to let two
good men die fightin’ for a damn lone rider?”
“What about the feller who’s goin’
to take Lee Haines out of Elkhead?” cried another.
The crowd yelled with delight.
“Yes, where is he? What about him?”
Rogers, glancing down from his position on the chair,
stared into the brown eyes of Whistling Dan.
He stretched out an arm that shook with excitement.
“That feller there!” he cried, “that
one without a mask! Whistlin’ Dan Barry
is the man!”
THE RESCUE
The throng gave back from Dan, as if from the vicinity
of a panther. Dan faced the circle of scowling
faces, smiling gently upon them.
“Look here, Barry,” called a voice from
the rear of the crowd, “why do you want to take
Haines away? Throw in your cards with us.
We need you.”
“If it’s fightin’ you want,”
cried a joker, “maybe Lewis an’ Patterson
will give us all enough of it at the jail.”
“I ain’t never huntin’ for trouble,”
said Dan.
“Make your play quick,” said another.
“We got no time to waste even on Dan Barry.
Speak out, Dan. Here’s a lot of good fellers
aimin’ to take out Haines an’ give him
what’s due him—no more. Are you
with us?”
