And when
I saw the judge finish off his signature with a flourish, I played a
pretty desperate card.
"You're just too late, gentlemen," I said, pointing out the side
window of the saloon. "There come the cavalry."
The three conspirators jumped to their feet and bolted for the window;
even the sheriff turned to look. As he did so I gave him a shove
toward the three which sent them all sprawling on the floor in a
pretty badly mixed-up condition. I made a dash for the door, and as I
went through it I grabbed the key and locked them in. When I turned to
do so I saw the lot struggling up from the floor, and, knowing that
it wouldn't take them many seconds to find their way out through the
window, I didn't waste much time in watching them.
Camp, Baldwin, and the judge had left their horses just outside the
saloon, and there they were still patiently standing, with their
bridles thrown over their heads, as only Western horses will stand.
It didn't take me long to have those bridles back in place, and as
I tossed each over the peak of the Mexican saddle I gave two of the
ponies slaps which started them off at a lope across the railroad
tracks. I swung myself into the saddle of the third, and flicked him
with the loose ends of the bridle in a way which made him understand
that I meant business.
Baldwin's cowboys had most of them scattered to the various saloons of
the place, but two of them were standing in the door-way of a store. I
acted so quickly, however, that they didn't seem to take in what I was
about till I was well mounted.
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