the confusion
of refractory horses.

"The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore!" roared a cowboy as he slammed
into the saddle of a skew-ball black.

"Go git him!" howled another in exact imitation of Slim Maloney.

There was a thunder of hoofs as the whole crowd, headed by Tex and
Curly swept down the street and across the flat toward the impromptu
jail.

With a lighted lantern beside him, Sam Moore sat upon the strongly
built unloading platform before the warehouse door, access to which was
gained by means of a flight of six or eight plank steps at either end.
Up these steps rode a couple of cowpunchers while the rest drew up
sharply at the very edge of the platform. Hemmed in upon all sides the
valiant deputy glanced fearfully into the faces of the horsemen.
"Wha--What's up, boys? What's ailin' ye?" he managed to blurt out.

"Drop them guns an' give over the key!" commanded someone.

"Sure--sure, boys! I hain't aimin' to hurt no one. Yer all friends of
mine an' what you say goes with me."

"Friends of yourn!" roared someone menacingly; "you're a liar, Sam!
You ain't never seen nary one of us before! Git that!"

"Sure, sure thing, boys, I don't know who ye be. 'Tain't none of my
business. I couldn't name none of you. You don't need to be scairt of
me."

"You beat it, then, an' lose yerself an' don't yer go stirrin' up no
rookus over to the dance, er we'll dangle you a little, too."

"Sure. I'm a-goin' now. I----"

"Fork over that key first!"

"Sure, Tex! Here it is----"

"Sure _who_!" rasped a voice close to the sheriff's ear.

"I mean--I said---- Here's the doggone key! I was thinkin' of a
feller I know'd down to Wyomin'. Tex--Tex--Smith, er some such of a
name it was. I mistrusted you was him, an' mebbe you be fer all I
know. I don't savvy none of you whatever."

"Get a move on, Sam!"

"Me! I'm gone! An' you boys remember when 'lection time comes, to
vote fer a sheriff that's got disgression an' common sense." And with
ludicrous alacrity, the deputy scrambled from the platform and
disappeared into the deep blackness of the lumber-yard.

The Texan fitted the key into the huge padlock and a moment later the
door swung open and a dozen cowpunchers swarmed in.

"Come on, pilgrim, an' try on yer necktie!"

"We'll prob'ly have to haul down all them wool-sacks an' drag him out
from behind 'em."

"I think not. If I am the man you want I think you will find me
perfectly able to w