respected only when backed by the strong hand,
and primitive instincts were always in the ascendency, requiring merely
a leader to break forth into open violence. And in this case would there
be any lack of leadership? Like a flash his mind reverted to "Black
Bart." There was the man capable of inciting a mob. If, for some unknown
reason, he had sufficient interest to swear out the warrant and assist
in the arrest, he would have equal cause to serve those fellows behind
him in other ways. Naturally, they would dread a trial, with its
possibility of exposure, and eagerly grasp any opportunity for wiping
the slate clean. Their real security from discovery undoubtedly lay
in his death, and with the "Red Light" crowd behind them they would
experience no trouble in getting a following desperate enough for any
purpose.

The longer Keith thought the less he doubted the result. It was not
then a problem of defence, but of escape, for he believed now that no
opportunity to defend himself would ever be allowed. The arrest was
merely part of the plot intended to leave him helpless in the hands of
the mob. In this Hicks was in no way blamable--he had merely performed
his sworn duty, and would still die, if need be, in defence of his
prisoner. He was no tool, but only an instrument they had found means of
using.

Keith was essentially a man of action, a fighter by instinct, and so
long accustomed to danger that the excitement of it merely put new fire
into his veins. Now that he understood exactly what threatened, all
numbing feeling of hesitancy and doubt vanished, and he became instantly
alive. He would not lie there in that hole waiting for the formation of
a mob; nor would he trust in the ability of the marshal to defend him.

He had some friends without--not many, for he was but an occasional
visitor at Carson--who would rally to Hicks's assistance, but there
would not be enough on the side of law and order to overcome the "Red
Light" outfit, if once they scented blood. If he was to be saved
from their clutches, he must save himself; if his innocence was ever
established it would be by his own exertions--and he could accomplish
this only out yonder, free under the arch of sky.

He lifted his head, every nerve tingling with desperate determination.
The low growl of voices was audible through the partition, but there
was no other sound. Carson City was still resting, and there would be
no crowd nor excitement until much late