Tower W
shot all to pieces. They cracked the through safe, emptied it, and made a clean get-away.”
“Tower W—two hundred and seventy-six miles. Have you ordered up an engine?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s Kennedy?”
A second voice answered: “Right here.”
“Strike a light, Farrell. What about the horses?”
“They’re being loaded.”
“Is the line clear?”
“Rooney Lee is clearing it.”
“Spike it, George, and leave every westbound train in siding, with the engine cut loose and plenty of steam, till we get by. It’s now or never this time. Two hundred and seventy-six miles; they’re giving us our money’s worth. Who’s going with us, Farrell?”
“Bob Scott, Reed Young, and Brill, if Reed can get him at Sleepy Cat. Dancing is loading the horses.”
“I want Ed Banks to lead a posse straight from here for Williams Cache; Dancing can go with him. And telephone Gene and Bob Johnson to sit down in Canadian Pass till they grow to the rocks, but not to let anybody through if they want to live after I see them. They’ve got all the instructions; all they need is the word. It’s a long chance,
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