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Updated: May 28, 2025
Sharply he turned his head in the direction where No-Thumb-Jack had stood. Jack was just making for the door on the heels of the last of those pressing to get out. The Boy's low cry was drowned in the din. He lunged forward, but the Colonel gripped him. Looking up, he saw that Kentucky understood, and meant somehow to manage the business quietly.
The only men who had not pressed forward were Keith, the Colonel, and the Boy, and No-Thumb-Jack, still standing by the oil-tank. "What are they going to do with him?" The Colonel turned to Keith with horror in his face. Keith's eyes were on the Boy, who had stooped and picked up the block of wood that had fitted over the treasure-hole. He was staring at it with dilated eyes.
Anybody that don't join a stampede will be held guilty o' grand larceny." Saying this Butts had backed a step behind the stove-pipe, and with incredible quickness had pulled out a revolver. But before he had brought it into range, No-Thumb-Jack had struck his arm down, and two or three had sprung at the weapon and wrested it away. "Search him!" "No tellin' what else he's got!"
Some were suggesting: "Bring him over to the court." "Yes, try him straight away." No-Thumb-Jack was heard above the din, saying it was all gammon wasting time over a trial, or even in a plain case like this for the Judge to require the usual complaint made in writing and signed by three citizens. Two men laid hold of the Canadian, and he turned ghastly white under his tan. "Me? Me tief?
The Boy stood at the edge of the crowd, a little above them, watching Maudie's door, and with feverish anxiety turning every few seconds to see how it was with Butts. Up in the cabin No-Thumb-Jack had pulled out of the usual capacious pockets of the miner's brown-duck-pockets that fasten with a patent snap a tattered pocket-book, fat with bills.
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