make a prisoner of him, open the door, and let the others take the women into custody.
Landers was stamping upon the door.
"Get away, or I'll fire through it!" he called, as the pounding ceased for a moment.
He sent one shot crashing through the wood and Verbeck could hear a chorus of shrieks below. He knew Landers' plan—to delay them as much as he could. And for what? That was what Verbeck could not fathom.
To whom had Landers telephoned? How could he be rescued from the roof? Would the Black Star and his band face a battle with police and deputies, attempt to raid the hotel and save Landers and the two women?
Landers had stepped back, and was listening to what was being said below. Verbeck crept forward until he was within six feet of the other man. He raised the piece of timber.
He sent but one blow home, but he knew as it struck that it would send Landers crashing to the roof, even though it did not render him unconscious. He sprang past him, and fumbled at the heavy bolts on the door, drew them, and threw the door open.
"Up—quick!" he cried.
Glad cries from the sheriff and Lawrence greeted him. They sprang to the roof, two deputies at their heels. They seized the groaning Landers, and rushed across the roof toward the women.
"Torches!" Kowen cried.
The torches flashed. The women were standing near one of the big chimneys. Kowen led his deputies toward them.
