cheerful admonition boomed at him by Hanscomb, the blacksmith. "We 're the whole court and jury, an' we find you not guilty. We just found the Killer guilty, the vote being unanimous."
The outlaw, blinking at the light one of the men carried, hesitated and seemed to show no interest in the freedom offered him.
"Say, what 's the matter with you? Don't you want to be turned loose?"
"Thanks, boys, I do," he answered hesitantly. "But there 's a girl I 'm sort a looking after. She was round here somewhere when Agnew locked me up and"
"Oh, he means that yaller-haired beauty that come riding in with him and Uncle Alf ridin' herd on the Killer," piped an inspired one. "You 're all right, you are, Zang. You 're a picker! C'm on, we 'll find her for you."
Another group of the mob, meanwhile, had found Sheriff Red Agnew stretched unconscious in a bedroom by the side of an opened window. They had the big man sitting up and gagging over fiery liquor poured in generous quantity down his throat when Whistler and his convoy arrived. Agnew sent a dazed look at Whistler.
