"Give us th' first one you got," said Bill. "He's th' one that spit through th' window. I want him to lay on this straw, too. He's tied, an' can't scratch."
The guard was raised to the window, pushed and pulled through it and carelessly dumped on Red's bed, after which it did not take long for the two prisoners to gain their freedom.
"Good Kid!" said Bill, gripping his friend's hand. "An' you, too, whoever you are!"
"Don't mention no names," whispered Idaho. "We couldn't find no ear plugs," he chuckled, shaking hands with Red. "I'm too well known in this town. What'll we do with this coyote? Let him lay here?"
"No," answered Johnny. "He might roll over to Red Frank's an' get help. Picket him to a bush or cactus. Here, gimme a hand with him. I reckon he's come to, by th' way he's bracin' hisself. Little faster—time's flyin'. All right, put him down." Johnny busied himself with the last piece of rope and stood up. "Come on—Kane's stables, next."
As they crossed the street above the gambling-house, where in reality it was a trail, Bill Long took a hand in the evening's plans.
"Red," he said, "you go an' get our cayuses. Bring 'em right here, where we are now, an' wait for us. Idaho, you an' Johnny come with me an' stand under th' window of my room to take th' things I let down, an' free th' rope from 'em. I'm cussed shore we ain't goin' to leave all of our traps behind, not unless they been stole."
"I like yore cussed nerve!" chuckled Idaho. "Don't blame you, though. I'm ready."
