"He's not dead--but close to it. Maybe die any minute--maybe live through
it!"
That was the report.
"We'll get young Hollis and hold him to see how the sheriff comes out."
"Aye, we'll get him!"
All at once they boiled into action and the little crowd of men thrust
for the big doors that led into the hall. They cast the doors back and
came directly upon the tall, white-headed figure of Gainor.
CHAPTER 15
Gainor's dignity split the force of their rush. They recoiled as water
strikes on a rock and divides into two meager swirls. And when one or two
went past him on either side, he recalled them.
"Boys, there seems to be a little game on hand. What is it?"
Something repelling, coldly inquiring in his attitude and in his voice.
They would have gone on if they could, but they could not. He held them
with a force of knowledge of things that they did not know. They were
remembering that this man had gone out with the sheriff to meet,
apparently, his death. And yet Gainor, a well-tried friend of the
sheriff, seemed unexcited. They had to answer his question, and how could
they lie when he saw them rushing through a door with revolvers coming to
brown, skillful hands? It was someone from the rear who made the
confession.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133