cks
distant. Before they had covered a hundred yards a boy on the other side
of the street stopped, stared at them, and disappeared into the nearest
saloon.

The prisoner looked at his friend and grinned gayly. "Somethin' stirrin'
soon. We're liable to have a breeze in this neighborhood, looks like."

They reached the station without being molested, but down the street
could be seen much bustle of men running to and fro. Prince looked at
them anxiously.

"The clans are gathering," murmured Clanton nonchalantly, his hands in
his pockets. "Don't you reckon maybe you'll have to feed me to the
wolves after all, Billie?"

A saddled horse blinked in the sun beside the depot, the bridle rein
trailing on the ground. Its owner sat on a dry-goods box and whittled.
Jim glanced at the bronco casually. Jack Goodheart also observed the
cowpony. He whispered to the sheriff.

Prince turned to his prisoner. "Jim, you can take that horse an' hit the
dust, if you like."

"Meanin' that you can't protect me?"

The salient jaw of the sheriff tightened. He looked what he was, a man
among ten thousand, quiet and forceful, strong as tested steel.

"You'll have exactly the same chance to weather this that we will."

A mob of men was moving down the street in loose formation. There was
still time for a man to fling himself into the saddle and gallop away.

"You'd rather I'd stay, Billie."

"Yes. I'm sheriff. I'd like to show this drunken outfit they can't take a
prisoner from me."

Clanton gave a little whoop of delight. "Go to it, son. You're law west
of the Pecos. Let's see you make it stick."

Live-Oaks was as yet the terminus of the railroad. The train backed into
the station just as the first of the mob arrived.

"Nothin' doin', Prince," announced Yankie, swaggering forward. "You're
not goin' to take this fellow Clanton away. We've come to get him."

"That's right," agreed Albeen.

Jimmie-Go-Get-'Em grinned. "Makes twice now you've come to get me."

"We didn't make it go last time. Different now," said Bancock, moving
forward.

"That's near enough," ordered Prince. "You've made a mistake, boys. I'm
sheriff of Washington County, and this man's my prisoner."

"He's yore old side kick, too, ain't he?" jeered Yankie.

Goodheart, following the orders he had received, moved forward to the
engine and climbed into the cab beside the engineer and fireman. The
sheriff and his prisoner backed to the steps of the smoking-car. Bi