Rance, not in the least affected by what the prisoner had been saying, asked if that was his last word.

Johnson nodded.

Trinidad, simultaneously with his nod, snapped his finger, indicating that the prisoner’s time was up.

“Dep!” called the Sheriff, sharply.

The Deputy came forward and took his prisoner in charge.

“Good-bye, sir!” said Nick, who was visibly affected.

“Good-bye!” returned the prisoner, briefly.  “You tell the Girl—­no, come to think of it, Nick, don’t say anything . . .”

“Come on, you!” ordered Happy.

Whereupon with a shout and an imprecation the men removed en masse to the door.

“Boys,” intervened Nick at this juncture, rushing into their midst, “when Alliger was hanged Rance let ’im see his sweetheart.  I think, considerin’ as how she ain’t goin’ to see no more o’ Mr. Johnson here, an’ knowin’ the Girl’s feelin’s—­well, I think she ought to have a chance to—­”

Nick was not allowed to finish, for instantly the men were up in arms raising a most vigorous objection to his proposal; but, notwithstanding, Nick, evidently bent upon calling the Girl, started for the door.

“No,” objected Rance, obstinately.

The road agent took a step forward and, turning upon the Sheriff with a desperately hopeless expression upon his face, he said: 

“Jack Rance, there were two of us—­I’ve had my chance.  Inside of ten minutes I’ll be dead and it will be all your way.  Couldn’t you let me—­”

He paused, and ended almost piteously with: 

“Oh, I thought I’d have the courage not to ask, but, Oh, couldn’t you let me—­couldn’t you—­”

Once more Nick intervened by shrewdly prevaricating: 

“Here’s the Girl, boys!”

But this ruse of Nick’s met with no greater success than his previous efforts, for Rance, putting his foot down heavily upon the stove, voiced a vigorous protest.

“All right,” said the prisoner, resignedly.  Nevertheless, his face reflected his disappointment.  Turning now to Nick he thanked him for his efforts in his behalf.

“You must excuse Rance,” remarked the little barkeeper with a significant look at the Sheriff, “for bein’ so small a man as to deny the usual courtesies, but he ain’t quite himself.”

Weary of their cavilling, for he believed that in the end the Sheriff would carry his point, and determined to go before his courage failed him, Johnson made a movement towards the door.  Speaking bravely, though his voice trembled, he said: 

“Come, boys—­come.”

But, odd as it may seem, Nick’s words had taken root.

“Wait a minute,” Rance temporised.

The prisoner halted.

“I don’t know that I’m so small a man as to deny the usual courtesies, since you put it that way,” continued Rance.  “I always have extended them.  But we’ll hear what you have to say—­that’s our protection.  And it might interest some of us to hear what the Girl will have to say to you, Mr. Johnson—­after a week in her cabin there may be more to know than—­”