sheriff in the eye of any stickler for legal
formalities. They had not however come prepared to fight a battle, and
no one of them seemed willing to lead an attack upon the jail. The
leaders of the party conferred together with a good deal of animated
gesticulation, which was visible to the sheriff from his outlook, though
the distance was too great for him to hear what was said. At length one
of them broke away from the group, and rode back to the main body of the
lynchers, who were restlessly awaiting orders.

"Well, boys," said the messenger, "we 'll have to let it go for the
present. The sheriff says he 'll shoot, and he 's got the drop on us
this time. There ain't any of us that want to follow Cap'n Walker jest
yet. Besides, the sheriff is a good fellow, and we don't want to hurt
'im. But," he added, as if to reassure the crowd, which began to show
signs of disappointment, "the nigger might as well say his prayers, for
he ain't got long to live."

There was a murmur of dissent from the mob, and several voices insisted
that an attack be made on the jail. But pacific counsels finally
prevailed, and the mob sullenly withdrew.

The sheriff stood at the window until they had disappeared around the
bend in the road. He did not relax his watchfulness when the last one
was out of sight. Their withdrawal might be a mere feint, to be
followed by a further attempt. So closely, indeed, was his attention
drawn to the outside, that he neither saw nor heard the prisoner creep
stealthily across the floor, reach out his hand and secure the revolver
which lay on the bench behind the sheriff, and creep as noiselessly back
to his place in the corner of the room.

A moment after the last of the lynching party had disappeared there was
a shot fired from the woods across the road; a bullet whistled by the
window and buried itself in the wooden casing a few inches from where
the sheriff was standing. Quick as thought, with the instinct born of a
semi-guerrilla army experience, he raised his gun and fired twice at the
point from which a faint puff of smoke showed the hostile bullet to have
been sent. He stood a moment watching, and then rested his gun against
the window, and reached behind him mechanically for the other weapon. It
was not on the bench. As the sheriff realized this fact, he turned his
head and looked into the muzzle of the revolver.

"Stay where you are, Sheriff," said the prisoner, his eyes glistening,
his face almos