The man, however, showed no intention of leaving, for, his signals
completed, he blew out the light, first listening for any sound from
above, then his figure loomed black and immobile against the dim
starlight of the window.

"Oh, Lord! I got to set down," and the watcher squatted upon the
floor, bracing against the wall. His dulling perceptions were
sufficiently acute to detect shuffling footsteps on the porch and the
cautious unbarring of the door.

"Gettin' late for visitors," he thought, as he entered a blissful
doze. "When they're abed, I'll turn in."

It seemed much later that a shot startled him. To his dizzy hearing
came the sound of curses overhead, the stamp and shift of feet, the
crashing fall of struggling men, and, what brought him unsteadily to
his legs, the agonized scream of a woman. It echoed through the
house, chilling him, and dwindled to an aching moan.

Something was wrong, he knew that, but it was hard to tell just what.
He must think. What hard work it was to think, too; he'd never
noticed before what a laborious process it was. Probably that
sheriff had got into trouble; he was a fresh guy, anyhow; and he'd
laughed when he first saw Shorty. That settled it. He could get out
of it himself. Evidently it was nothing serious, for there was no
more disturbance above, only confused murmurings. Then a light
showed in the stairs, and again the shuffling of feet came, as four
strange men descended. They were lighted by the sardonic Bailey, and
they dragged a sixth between them, bound and helpless. It was the