"If they try it they will be stopped," he added, pointedly. "I've got a deputy coverin' every way out, sand or no sand. So-long," and he tramped down the bare stairs, grumbling at every step.
Johnny removed his hat to put on his shirt, and then replaced it. "You speakin' about sand in yore hair gave me what I needed," he grinned.
"That's why I said it," laughed his companion. "I saw that yore neck was stiff an' felt sorry for you. Now what th' devil do you think about that bank?"
"Kane," grunted Johnny, pouring sand from a boot.
"That name must 'a' been cut on th' butt of th' gun that hit you," chuckled Idaho. "It's been drove in solid. Get a rustle on; I'm hungry, an' my teeth are full of sand. I'm anxious to hear what Ed knows."
An unpleasant and gritty breakfast out of the way, they went in to visit with the bartender and to while away a few hours at California Jack.
"Hello," grunted Ed. "Sheriff come pokin' his face in yore room?" he asked.
"He did," answered Johnny; "an' he'll never know how close he come to pokin' it into h—l."
"My boot just missed him," regretted Ed. "He sung out right prompt when he felt th' wind of it. D—d four-flush."
"I'm among friends an' sympathizers," chuckled Idaho. "He says as how he's goin' wanderin' around in th' sand blasts doin' his duty. Duty nothin'! I'm bettin' he's settin' in Kane's, right now, takin' it easy."
"Then he can't get much closer to 'em," snorted Ed "He can near touch th' men that did it." He paused as
