They moved forward cautiously, guns ready. Behind them there was the noise of a stampede from the dining-room forward, to see what was going on, for curiosity always is greater than the sense of danger in those who are not principals in a fight. The three friends stood at the head of the steps and looked at the unoccupied ground at the bottom.
"He was right there!" Fred declared. "He was pullin' his gun on me—right there!"
"Well, he ain't there now," said Dan, a bit sarcastically.
"I must 'a'"
"Get away from here to do your shootin'!"
Cattle Kate spoke from the door. She held her bill-collector in her hand to enforce the order. Up the street there sounded a loud, mocking laugh, followed by a shot.
The three friends, feeling rather foolish, but not so foolish as to abandon caution altogether, rushed out into the cover of darkness in the road.
"That was him! I must 'a'"
Two quick shots from the corner of the saloon, which stood a lean-to against the hotel, left no doubt that Fred had fired at something more than the ghost of a man. Barrett saw Cattle Kate fanning out the lights in the hotel office with a hat; heard the front door shut with a sound of substantiality that promised security for those behind it.
"Scatter out!" Dan called, a note of warning in his voice.
"I must 'a'—" Fred began his explanation that
