Rowdy of the "Cross L"
and stood in more friendly shade. Behind him, on the door-step, stood the other two, blinking as he had done.
A form which he did not recognize rushed up out of the darkness and confronted the three belligerently. "You're a-disturbin' the peace," he yelled. "We don't stand for nothing like that in Camas. You're my prisoners—all uh yuh." The edict seemed to include even the bartender, peering over the shoulder of Bob Nevin, who struggled with several others for immediate passage through the doorway.
"I guess not, pardner," retorted Pink, facing him as defiantly as though the marshal were not twice his size.
The marshal lunged for him; but the Silent One, reaching a long arm from the door-step, rapped him smartly on the head with his gun. The marshal squawked and went down in a formless heap.
"Come on, boys," said the Silent One coolly. "I think we'd better go. Your friend seems to have vanished in thin air."
Rowdy, grumbling mightily over what looked unpleasantly like retreat, was pushed toward his horse and mounted under protest Likewise Pink,
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