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"Yes!" called others, "let's hear HIM!" There was a surging forward, and a man was lifted literally over the heads of the three deputies; he reached the platform breathless, disheveled, but triumphant. It was the survivor of Red Kimball's band. Mizzoo, mistaking his coming for a general rush, had hastily relocked the door, and he and Wilfred defended themselves with drawn revolvers.
"Mizzoo, listen to reason. Don't you understand that Red wants revenge, and has misrepresented this Indian attack to tally with his other lies?" "I wouldn't say nothing against Red, old tap. It ain't gentlemanly to call dead folk liars." "Dead folk!" echoed Wilfred, starting up. "I KNOWED you didn't understand that Red's off the trail forever," Mizzoo rejoined gently.
The speaker was down the steps in two leaps, and the deputies drew aside to let him pass out. Civic pride, above all, civic ambition, had been touched to the quick. A hoarse roar followed the speech, and cries for Bill grew frantic. Mizzoo, afraid to unlock the door, stared at Wilfred in perplexity. "I told you they had civilization on the brain," he muttered. "The old times are past.
He began to read, slowly, doggedly; Brick, without movement save for that heaving of his bosom, facing him with a mingling on his face of supreme defiance for the reader and superstitious awe for the legal instrument. "That's all," Mizzoo at last announced. "You'll have to come with me, Willock." "Hold on!" came voices from the crowd.
The warrant ought to be enough; and if you can't get a chance to serve it on him, that's not your fault. Your deputies haven't any right in that cove, and I'm going to smoke 'em out." Mizzoo chewed, with a deprecatory shake of his head. "See here, old tap," he murmured, "don't you say nothing about being Brick Willock's friend. The whole country is roused against him. Heard of them three bodies?"
The deputies, tall broad-shouldered fellows, pushed back the threatening tide, always with good-natured protests, words half bantering, half appealing, repulsive thrusts of the arms, rough but inflicting no hurt. So peaceful a minute before had been the Square, it was difficult to comprehend the sudden spirit of danger. Mizzoo whispered to Wilfred, "We'd better get in as quick as possible."
I daresn't make a move toward that lock." "Drop the keys behind you I'll get 'em," Wilfred murmured. "Step a little forward. Say something to 'em." "Ain't got nothing to say," growled Mizzoo, glaring at the mob. "These boys are in the right of it, that's how I feel cuss that obstinate old bobcat! it's his own fault if they string him up." "Here they come!" Wilfred exclaimed.
Brick turned his head at last; he looked, also, not reproachfully but with a question in his hard stern eyes. Mizzoo turned red. "Well, yes, I'll read it," he said, defiantly. "Sure! I guess as sheriff of Greer County I'll make shift to get through with it alive."
He spurred his horse impatiently, and it plunged forward through the drifted banks of white sand. Mizzoo hastened to overtake him, still chuckling. "Old Man Walker never knowed what a proposition he was handing us when he ordered us to drive the old mountain-lion out of his lair! Looks like the six of us ought to have done the trick.
This neighborhood calls for his life and'd take it if in reach; and my warrant calls for his arrest. All I can promise is to get him, if possible, behind the bars before the mob gets him in a rope. Wilfred permitted himself the pleasure of taunting Mizzoo with the very evident truth that before Willock was hanged or imprisoned, he must first be caught. Mizzoo grinned good-naturedly. "Yap.
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