The Arizona copper camp., 1920-11-06

own struggle. Like so many wild
beasts they clutched and struck, unable
to disentangle themselves. Enright,
his face like chalk, got to his knees
and crept across the floor until mis-
hand closed on Westcott's revolver.
Lifting himself by a grip on the desk,
he swung the weapon forward at the
very instant the miner rose staggering,
dragging Beaton with him. There
was a flash of fame, a sharp report,
and Westcott sprang aside, gripping
the back of chair The gunman sank
into shapelessness on the floor as the
chair hurtled through the air straight
at Enright's head.
With a crash the door fell, and
black mass of men surged in through
the opening; the bartender leading
them, an axe in his hand. Beaton
lay motionless just as he had dropped;
Enright was in one corner, dazed, un-
nerved, a red cash across his fore
head, from which blood dripped, the
revolver, struck from his fingers, yet
smoking on the floor; Westcott, his
clothes torn, his face bruised by
blows, breathing heavily, went slowly
backward, step by step, to the farther
wall, conscious of nothing now but the
savagely hostile faces of these new
enemies. Lacy, staggering as though
drunk, managed to attain his feet,
hate, desire for revenge, yielding him
strength. This was his crowd, and his
ioI| 10 en-
tunity.
"There's the man who did it." he
shouted, his arm flung out toward
Westcott. 81 saw him shoot. See,
that's his gun lying on the floor. Don't
LET the murderer get away!"
He started forward, an oath on his
lips, and the excited crowd surged af.
ter, growing anger. Then the mass
of them seemed suddenly rent asunder.
and the marshal plowed his way
through heedlessly, his hat gone, and
a blue-barreled gun in either hand. He
swept the muzzle of one Of these into
the bartender's face menacingly, his
eyes searching the maddened crowd.
''Wait a minute, you," he command
ed sharply. 81 reckon I've got some
thing to say bout this. Put down that
axe Mike, or yell never draw another
glass O. beer in this camp. You know
me, lads, an / never draw except fer
business. Shut your mouth, Lacy;
don't touch that gun, you fool! am
in charge here-this is my job; and If
there is going to be any lynching done,
it will be after you get me. Stand
back, now; all of you-yes get out
into that barroom. 1 mean you, Mike !
This man is my prisoner, and I'll de-
fend him. AyI I'll do more, I'll let
him defend himself. Here, Westcott,
pick up your gun on the floor. Now,
stand here with me! We're going out
through that bunch, and if one Of
those coyotes puts paw on you, let
him have it !"
The crowd made way, reluctantly
enough, growing curses, but with no
man among them sufficiently reckless
to attempt resistance. They lacked
leadership, for the little marshal new
er once took his eye off Lacy.
At the door he turned, walking back
ward, trusting in Westcott to keep
their path clear, both leyeled revolvers
ready for any movement
He had but one object before him
to get his prisoner safely outside into
the open. Beyond that he would trust
to luck and a fair chance. His grey
eyes We're almost black as they gleam-
ed over the leveled revolver barrels,
and his clipped mustache fairly bris-
tied.
They were far from free even out
side the swinging doors and in the
sunshine. Already a rumOr of what
had occurred had spread like wildfre,
and men were on the street, eager
enough to take some hand in the af-
fray. A few were already about the
steps, while others were running rapid
ly toward them, excited, but uncertain.
1t was this uncertainty which gave
the little marshal his one slender
chance. His eyes Swept the crowd,
but there was no face visible on whom
he could rely in this emergency.
There was scarcely an instant of hesi-
fancy, his quick searching eyes survey
ing the scene, and then seeking the
face of his prisoner.
''Willing to fight this out, Jim?" he
asked shortly.
''You bet, Dan; WHAT'S the plan?"
''Tne big rock in Bear creek. We
can hold out there until dark. Per-
haps there'n be some men to help US by
that time; if not, we might crawl away
in the night. Take the alley and turn
at the hotel. Don't let anybody stop
you. Christopher Columbus, hate to
run from such cattle, but it's our only
chance"
There was no time to waste. They
were not yet at the mouth of the al
ley when the infuriated pursuers burst
through the saloon doors. cursing and
shouting.
There were a dozen shots, but the