by Max Brand
CHAPTER XXIV
THE RESCUE
The throng gave back from Dan, as if from the vicinity of a panther.Dan faced the circle of scowling faces, smiling gently upon them.
"Look here, Barry," called a voice from the rear of the crowd, "whydo you want to take Haines away? Throw in your cards with us. We needyou."
"If it's fightin' you want," cried a joker, "maybe Lewis an' Pattersonwill give us all enough of it at the jail."
"I ain't never huntin' for trouble," said Dan.
"Make your play quick," said another. "We got no time to waste even onDan Barry. Speak out, Dan. Here's a lot of good fellers aimin' to takeout Haines an' give him what's due him--no more. Are you with us?"
"I'm not."
"Is that final?"
"It is."
"All right. Tie him up, boys. There ain't no other way!"
"Look out!" shouted a score of voices, for a gun flashed in Dan'shand.
He aimed at no human target. The bullet shattered the glass lamp intoa thousand shivering and tinkling splinters. Thick darkness blottedthe room. Instantly thereafter a blow, a groan, and the fall of abody; then a confused clamour.
"He's here!"
"Give up that gun, damn you!"
"You got the wrong man!"
"I'm Bill Flynn!"
"Guard the door!"
"Lights, for God's sake!"
"Help!"
A slender figure leaped up against the window and was dimly outlinedby the starlight outside. There was a crash of falling glass, and astwo or three guns exploded the figure leaped down outside the house.
"Follow him!"
"Who was that?"
"Get a light! Who's got a match?"
Half the men rushed out of the room to pursue that fleeing figure. Theother half remained to see what had happened. It seemed impossiblethat Whistling Dan had escaped from their midst. Half a dozen sulphurmatches spurted little jets of blue flame and discovered four menlying prone on the floor, most of them with the wind trampled fromtheir bodies, but otherwise unhurt. One of them was the sheriff.
He lay with his shoulders propped against the wall. His mouth was amass of blood.
"Who got you, Rogers?"
"Where's Barry?"
"The jail, the jail!" groaned Rogers. "Barry has gone for the jail!"
Revolvers rattled outside.
"He's gone for Haines," screamed the deputy. "Go get him, boys!"
"How can he get Haines? He ain't got the keys."
"He has, you fools! When he shot the lights out he jumped for me andknocked me off the chair. Then he went through my pockets and got thekeys. Get on your way! Quick!"
The lynchers, yelling with rage, were already stamping from the room.
With the jangling bunch of keys in one hand and his revolver in theother, Dan started full speed for the jail as soon as he leaped downfrom the window. By the time he had covered half the interveningdistance the first pursuers burst out of Rogers's house and openedfire after the shadowy fugitive. He whirled and fired three shots highin the air. No matter how impetuous, those warning shots would makethe mob approach the jail with some caution.
On the door of the jail he beat furiously with the bunch of keys.
"What's up? Who's there?" cried a voice within.
"Message from Rogers. Hell's started! He's sent me with the keys!"
The door jerked open and a tall man, with a rifle slung across onearm, blocked the entrance.
"What's the message?" he asked.
"This!" said Dan, and drove his fist squarely into the other's face.
He fell without a cry and floundered on the floor, gasping. Dan pickedhim up and shoved him through the door, bolting it behind him.A narrow hall opened before him and ran the length of the smallbuilding. He glanced into the room on one side. It was the kitchen andeating-room in one. He rushed into the one on the other side. Two menwere there. One was Haines, sitting with his hands manacled. The otherwas the second guard, who ran for Dan, whipping his rifle to hisshoulder. As flame spurted from the mouth of the gun, Dan dived at theman's knees and brought him to the floor with a crash. He rose quicklyand leaned over the fallen man, who lay without moving, his armsspread wide. He had struck on his forehead when he dropped. He wasstunned for the moment, but not seriously hurt. Dan ran to Haines, whostood with his hands high above his head. Far away was the shout ofthe coming crowd.
"Shoot and be damned!" said Haines sullenly.
For answer Dan jerked down the hands of the lone rider and commencedto try the keys on the handcuffs. There were four keys. The fourthturned the lock. Haines shouted as his hands fell free.
"After me!" cried Dan, and raced for the stable.
As they swung into their saddles outside the shed, the lynchers racedtheir horses around the jail.
"Straightaway!" called Dan. "Through the cottonwoods and down thelane. After me. Satan!"
The stallion leaped into a full gallop, heading straight for a tallgroup of cottonwoods beyond which was a lane fenced in with barbedwire. Half a dozen of the pursuers were in a position to cut them off,and now rushed for the cottonwoods, yelling to their comrades to jointhem. A score of lights flashed like giant fireflies as the lynchersopened fire.
"They've blocked the way!" groaned Haines.
Three men had brought their horses to a sliding stop in front of thecottonwoods and their revolvers cracked straight in the faces of Danand Haines. There was no other way for escape. Dan raised his revolverand fired twice, aiming low. Two of the horses reared and pitchedto the ground. The third rider had a rifle at his shoulder. He washolding his fire until he had drawn a careful bead. Now his gunspurted and Dan bowed far over his saddle as if he had been struckfrom behind.
Before the rifleman could fire again Black Bart leaped high in theair. His teeth closed on the shoulder of the lyncher and the mancatapulted from his saddle to the ground. With his yell in their ears,Dan and Haines galloped through the cottonwoods, and swept down thelane.