The man went over with a crash. His mate, who had been
staggering about, cursing viciously, fired another wild shot at Quest, who
swayed and fell forward.
"I've done him!" the man shouted. "Get up, Red! I've done him all right!
Finish yer drink. We'll get out of this!"
He bent unsteadily over Quest. Suddenly the latter sprang up, seized him
by the leg and sent him sprawling. The gun fell from his hand. Quest
picked it up and held it firmly out, covering both men. Gallagher was on
his knees, groping for his own weapon.
"Get the handcuffs on them," Quest directed the Sheriff, who with his men
had at last succeeded in forcing his way into the saloon.
The Sheriff wasted no words till the two thugs, now nerveless and cowed,
were handcuffed. Then he turned to Quest. There was a note of genuine
admiration in his tone.
"Mr. Quest," he declared, "you've got the biggest nerve of any man I have
ever known."
The criminologist smiled.
"This sort of bully is always a coward when it comes to the pinch," he
remarked.
* * * * *
Crouching in her chair, her pale, terror-stricken face supported between
her hands, Lenora, her eyes filled with hopeless misery, gazed at the dumb
instrument upon the table. Her last gleam of hope seemed to be passing.
Her little friend was silent. Once more her weary fingers spelt out a
final, despairing message.
"What has happened to you? I am waiting to hear all the time. Has Craig
told you where I am? I am afraid!"
There was still no reply.
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