you—called in the law. These fellows are dangerous. I'm going to cage them."
The prisoners spoke not a word. Bemis had received a fearful fistic punishment, and was blubbering. Ike Slump kept up a mumbling sound with his lips, as if trying to get used to the lack of teeth.
Slavin led them through the town by dark and unfrequented streets. When they reached the railroad tracks, he made for a crossings shanty.
The flagman had gone home for the night, but the door was secured by a catch only. Slavin marched his prisoners inside, drew a lantern from under a bench, pushed them to the bench, and lit the lantern.
"You rest a while," he directed them "Court will open soon. Fairbanks, will you do an errand for me?"
"What is it, Slavin?"
"I promised the road detective, Bob Adair, to send him word when I found these fellows."
"I'm out on bail. They can't bother me till my trial comes off," mumbled Ike Slump, making a grimacing, painful job of talking intelligently.
"Rest easy," advised Slavin grimly. "This is quite another round. Find him, Fairbanks."
"You think that is best, do you?" inquired Ralph. "These fellows"
