With the jangling bunch of keys in one hand and his revolver in the
other, Dan started full speed for the jail as soon as he leaped down
from the window. By the time he had covered half the intervening
distance the first pursuers burst out of Rogers's house and opened
fire after the shadowy fugitive. He whirled and fired three shots high
in the air. No matter how impetuous, those warning shots would make
the mob approach the jail with some caution.
On the door of the jail he beat furiously with the bunch of keys.
"What's up? Who's there?" cried a voice within.
"Message from Rogers. Hell's started! He's sent me with the keys!"
The door jerked open and a tall man, with a rifle slung across one
arm, blocked the entrance.
"What's the message?" he asked.
"This!" said Dan, and drove his fist squarely into the other's face.
He fell without a cry and floundered on the floor, gasping. Dan picked
him up and shoved him through the door, bolting it behind him.
A narrow hall opened before him and ran the length of the small
building. He glanced into the room on one side. It was the kitchen and
eating-room in one. He rushed into the one on the other side. Two men
were there.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226