"I put irons on him, hands and feet," he informed Weir. "He's out of
the way at any rate if we're in for a row."

That was exactly what appeared in prospect. Only the rifles in the
grip of the two dozen men about the jail kept the now thoroughly
aroused mob from rushing forward. From yelling it had changed to low
fierce murmurs that bespoke a more desperate mood.

"We ought to move the men somewhere else," Steele Weir stated. "Pretty
soon they'll go for arms and then we'll have real trouble."

"I arranged while you were gone to transfer them to the county seat in
the next county," Madden said. "Telephoned the sheriff; he's expecting
them. To-morrow we can take them to Santa Fe, out of this part of the
country till time for their trial. I placed the automobile your man
brought Burkhardt in from the dam and another machine back in the
alley; they are there now in the shadow."

"Good. The quicker you take them, the better. They ought to be gagged
when brought out. Get them here to the door; the men who are to drive
should have the cars ready, engines going----"

"That's fixed. Your superintendent will drive one car and one of the
engineers the other; they can slip back there at once. Six more of the
guards are to go with us."

"All right. You know whom you want. Station them here at the door to
rush the prisoners back the instant you're ready. Have them go round
to the rear on the dark side of the jail; they should gain a good
start before they're discovered."

Madden called from the line Atkinson and the men whom he had chosen to
accompany him on the night ride. A brief parley followed. Then he and
two of the engineers went inside the jail, while the superintendent
and one young fellow stole away in the shadows towards the spot where
stood the cars.

Meanwhile the throng had grown until it filled all the space about the
rear of the court house and formed a mass of human bodies on which the
checkered moonlight played reaching to within half a dozen paces of
the jail. A shot rang out and a bullet struck the jail. It was like a
match lighted near powder, that if allowed to burn would set off an
explosion. One shot would lead to others from reckless spirits, to a
volley and in the end to an onslaught.

Perhaps that was the reasoning and the purpose of the man who had
fired. In any case, it must not be repeated.

Weir strode forward towards the crowd.

"If that man, or any of you, want to shoot this out with me