outlaw chief pushed his way through the
dense mob at the door and reached the stairway.

"He won't let us up," growled one of them.

"Who won't?" demanded Bannister sharply, and at once came leaping up the
stairs.

"Nothing doing," drawled Frisco, and tossed him over the railing on to
the heads of his followers below.

They carried Bannister into the open air, for his head had struck the
newel-post in his descent. This gave the defense a few minutes respite.

"They're going to come a-shooting next time," remarked Denver. "Just as
soon as he comes back from bye-low land you'll see things hum."

"Y'u bet," agreed Missou. "We'll last about three minutes when the
stampede begins."

The scream of an engine pierced the night.

Denver's face lit. "Make it five minutes, Missou, and Mac is safe. At
least, I'm hoping so awful hard. Miss Helen wired for the militia from
Sheridan this nothing. Chances are they're on that train. I couldn't
tell you earlier because she made me promise not to. She was afraid it
might leak out and get things started sooner."

Weak but furious, the miscreant from the Shoshones returned to the
attack. "Break in the back door and sneak up behind on those fellows.
We'll have the men we want inside of fifteen minutes," he promised the
mob.

"We'll rush them from both sides, and show those guys on the landing
whether they can stop us," added Bostwick.

Suddenly some one raised the cry, "The soldiers!" Bannister looked up
the street and swore a vicious oath. Swinging down the road at double
time came a company of militia in khaki. He was mad with baffled fury,
but he made good his retreat at once and disappeared promptly into the
nearest dark alley.

The mob scattered by universal impulse; disintegrated so promptly that
within five minutes the soldiers held the ground alone, save for the
officials of the prison and Denver's little band.

A boyish lieutenant lately out of the Point, and just come in to
a lieutenancy in the militia, was in command. "In time?" he asked
anxiously, for this was his first independent expedition.

"Y'u bet," chuckled Denver. "We're right glad to see you, and I'll
bet those boys in the cage ain't regretting your arrival any. Fifteen
minutes later and you would have been in time to hold the funeral
services, I reckon."

"Where is Miss Messiter?" asked the young officer.

"She's at the Elk House, colonel. I expect some of us better drift over
there and tell her it'