PAINTED ROCK
walked up alongside and slapped his shoulder. "Get, quick; there's going to be trouble."
I wanted to go, and yet I didn't. I did not hanker to be killed or to get in the calaboose. After all, it wasn't my affair. Jack had been my partner years ago, but Northrop was in that position when he had been killed. And here was Tom. Still I had to stay and see the thing out, and I said—
"Go to thunder, old man!"
And I stepped back against the wall and rolled a cigarette. There were three other men outside the hotel besides Silas and Tom. I had never seen any of them, but I could pick them out of a thousand now. I noticed a shot-gun leaning against the little rail on the edge of the side-walk. But there was no Briggs in sight. Tom was in his shirt-sleeves, and wore a big cow-hat rather over his eyes. He had no weapon on him, pistols in sight not being allowed in town at that date. Just at the end of the verandah there was a very good horse standing ready saddled. There was a coat strapped lightly to the horn of the saddle. It was a kind of blue-grey cloth,
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