The sound of the hill men's voices died down. The concealed men could see them in a huddle, too far away for a revolver to carry accurately. Two men separated from the group and disappeared behind the store buildings. Another left, to go in the opposite direction. The enemy was surrounding them. Polk was probably sending riflemen into the alley opposite the lots. He might have thought, too, of the rooming house, from the upper windows of which the victims could be picked off neatly. Just now there was no indiscriminate firing. No doubt Cash did not want to arouse the town until it was too late for rescuers to save the trapped men. Since he was cautious and sly rather than bold, he would want to finish the job and get away without being recognized.
'We might make a dash across the road for the alley,' Arnold said,' and reach the other end of it before we are cut off.'
Hal shook his head. 'We'd never make it to the alley. That fellow with the rifle standing by our car would cut one of us down at least, maybe both.'
Daylight was driving away the darkness of night, a fact that brought the besieged no comfort. The minutes dragged. It would not be long before the snipers opened on them. The outlaws dared not wait a moment after they were set to attack.
A man was moving up the alley toward them.
'If I hadn't left that Winchester at Hunter's we could pick him off,' Arnold said regretfully.
A rifle's whine broke the silence. The bullet struck one of the limousines. They shifted their positions to get better protection.
'Kindness of the fellow in the alley,' Hal commented, his grin none too cheerful. 'It's like shooting fish in a bathtub.'
'Look!' Arnold cried. 'A fellow in the window.'
Hal's eyes lifted to the upper story of the rooming house back of them. A man with a rifle was standing in an open window, a rifle in his hands. He was not fifty yards from them, and he had a clean shot at his prey. The man was Bill Nuney.
'This is where one of us goes on a long journey,' Hal said.
The crack of the rifle sounded from the window. Hal's astonished eyes met those of his friend. Nuney had not fired at them, but at the man in the alley.
'Get out of there, Chad, or I'll drill you full of holes,' Nuney shouted.
The gunman in the alley shook a fist at him and cursed. 'A rat like I told you,' he shouted back.
'Never mind that now,' Nuney warned. 'Light out, or get plugged.'
Chad fired at the figure in the window and the bullet tore through the woodwork of the frame just above Nuney's head. The answering shot came almost as an echo. Chad dropped the weapon and caught at his leg. He sank down back of a barrel fifteen feet distant from the rifle.
The face and torso of a Mexican showed at a window near the one where Nuney stood. 'My friend Carlos,' the cowboy called to those in the lot below. 'We had a bust-up with the other boys.'
Chad was slowly beating a retreat down the alley. He hung on to his leg and limped as he walked.
'What a break!' Arnold said. 'Never bumped into anything like this before in my life.'
'We'll not forget this, Bill,' Hal promised, raising his voice to be heard. 'When we get out of this, stick around with us till we have talked it over. You and your friend too.'
'Okey! I judge we had better leave town together and separate later,' Nuney laughed. 'Bet you never shook a present off the Christmas Tree more welcome than this one.'
Hunter's car moved very slowly down the street toward the battle zone. Some men were in the rear pushing it. Hal and Ranny fired at their legs. It stopped. The head of Cash Polk appeared cautiously at a corner of the intersection.
'Come on back, Brick,' he called. 'Bill Nuney has done shot Chad. He's in the window of that hotel, and soon as he can see you he'll cut loose.'
Brick's two assistants ran back to the main street. Brick followed, pouring out a stream of profanity.
'We've gotta light out!' Polk cried shrilly. 'Folks are up around the pool hall with guns. Gather the boys, Ed. And tell them to get a move on them before we're cut off.'
Hal heard the sound of running and shouting men, the snort of a car, and presently the roar of it racing down the street. He called up to Nuney, 'Meet you at the corner.' Arnold and he walked back to the main street, where they were presently joined by Nuney and Vallejo.
The lank cowpuncher laughed. 'This sure seems to be our night for adventure. No use me going over to the Solomon Islands or New Guinea with the Marines. I can get all the gun-fighting I want right here.'
'How did you happen to be up in that hotel so pat?' Hal asked.
'When we heard the first shooting, we knew they were after you,' Nuney explained. 'We hung around and heard someone say you were in that lot. So we walked into the rooming house, up two flights of stairs, and into an empty room overlooking yore hiding place.'
'What made you take a hand in the fight?' Arnold asked. He was puzzled. Certainly these rustlers, whom he had been trying to hound into prison, could have no love for them.
'I'm doggoned if I know.' Nuney scratched his curly poll to find an answer. 'Except that I don't hold with murder. These birds had kinda dragged me and Carlos into one, and we sort of figured it was up to us to stop their game if we could, seeing that we knew it might be our turn next.' His boyish face showed for a moment lines of worry. 'This puts me in a jam. I'm joining up with the Marines next week. Where do I get off now? If there is a charge of rustling hanging over me, they won't take me in, I reckon.'
Arnold thought that could be got around. It was not likely the case against the rustlers would come to a head before he was inducted. After he was in the service, they could probably get the charge against him dropped on account of the help he had given them.
Some men were coming down the street. One of them called to them, 'Any of you boys hurt?'
'None of us, Mr. Hunter,' Arnold answered. 'One of the rustlers got shot in the leg by one of our friends.'
'You had friends?' the banker asked.
'A couple of men from the Soledad Valley jumped in to help us.' Arnold introduced Nuney and Vallejo. 'Without them we would have been goners.'
Hunter explained his presence. 'My daughter told me there was no gas in the car and that worried me. When I heard shooting, I called up the police and some friends. We armed and met at the hotel.'
'That was what scared the rustlers off,' Hal said. 'They had to get out without being identified.'
'Well, all's well that ends well,' the banker said tritely. 'I'm glad the Wild West Show is over without casualties.'
'If you don't count Chad's punctured leg, señor,' Carlos amended, with a flash of white teeth shown in a wide smile.
Hal admitted that he was a good deal relieved himself. There had been a few minutes, he suggested, when even Lloyd's would not have quoted an insurance rate on him and Arnold.
'Well, it's all over now,' one of the town policemen said cheerfully.
The eyes of Arnold and Stevens met. The officer's assurance would have been a comforting one if they could have believed it.
CHAPTER 31
Sheriff Elbert Rides into the Hills
When confronted with the evidence that he had been buying stolen stock, Jubal L. Gibson looked surprised and shocked. At once he passed the buck to Tick Black, who had represented the alleged owners of the beef stuff. He showed his books, and as Arnold had guessed there was no appearance of crooked dealing visible. The price that showed on them was a fair one. Before purchasing the shipments Gibson had satisfied himself that the brands were recorded at the State House. Edward Mullins owned the Circle X and Brick Fenwick the O B in a Box. Black had shown him bills of sale from both of these men. Why should he suspect any chicanery from a reputable citizen like Mr. Black?