Pete Reeve darted past him with noiseless steps and paused a moment at the threshold of the jail.

Plainly he was ready for fight or flight, and his right hand was toying constantly with the holstered butt of his gun.

Bull followed to the outside.
"Hosses ?" asked the little man curtly.
"On foot," answered Bull with equal brevity, and he led the way straight across the street.

There was no danger of being seen.

All the life of the town was drawn to a center about the hotel.