"Some of them look like it.

We can't carry you up that hill, but we'll do the next best thing.

Marshal, I'll stay here and guard the prisoners while you run to the village for help--and doctors." "And run fast, Anderson," added Gregory.

"You always were so devilish slow.

Don't walk-trot." Soon afterward, when Anderson, fagged but overjoyed, hobbled into the village, the excited crowd was ready to lynch him, but with his first words the atmosphere changed.
"Where is Jackie Blake ?" sobbed a pretty young woman, grasping the proud marshal's arm and shaking him violently.
"Derned if I know, ma'am.