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Show CHAPTER VIII. Silence That Came Alive. The Pearlhunter was not a man to be long held down. His day was gone; but the night remained. The sheriff was to bring his supper to him. The fact suddenly became 'Ira '111 'till "Hide It In Your Pants Leg, or Som-'ere's." Som-'ere's." significant. Maybe he'd come inside. Maybe he'd come alone. A rusty stove out in the hallway between be-tween the two cells caught his eye. No poker; no lid. The door was fastened in a manner that prevented its being taken off. The hearth was gone. Nothing Noth-ing loose. He stood studying it. The legs! He darted behind the stove, lifted it. and wrenched one loose, hid it under his rumpled blouse; and went to the east window to watch the sheriff's house. A scratching at the west window caught his ear. He listened till it was repeated ; crossed the halj and tiptoed to the window. A hand came up to scratch the window ledge again. The Pearlhunter laid his palm upon it. It was snatched away; but came back again. "That you, Pearlhunter?" "Yes." The man on the outside raised himself him-self even with the window. The Pearlhunter Pearl-hunter would have recognized him in half the light the Boss.. His face came close to the bars on the outside; the Pearlhunter's face came close to the bars on the inside. The friendly butt of a six-gun came across the window win-dow ledge. The comfortable feel of it in his fingers gave the Pearlhunter a new lease of life. "Hide it in y'ur pants leg, or some'r's." the Boss whispered. "An' here's some more bullets, an' th' caps an' powder flask." The young man grasped the hard old hand and whispered an awkward word or two. The Boss drew his hand back and swore. "Hit ain't no more'n you'd 'a' done fer me." he growled. "Now listen. Bull Masterson he's camped three mile up the river. He's got seven men ; an' I've got five. That makes fourteen, countin' me and Bull. We c'n plum upset this derned ol' meat house. An' once't we git y'u out, let 'em lay a claw on y'u ag'in, if they devil dn'st." "No, no," te Pearlhunter muttered. "You mustn't do that. You'd cross the law yourselves." "Law !" the Boss snorted in his hoarse whispers. "Hit ain't th' law, nor th" sheriff I'm fearin'. nit's them cussed town yaps. They're wild at th' name of th' Red Mask. They think you're him, and they're like a herd of deer that's got a wolf down. They're holdin' a meetin' right now h'hind th' Mud Hen. If they start ag'in, the sheriff cayn't hold out ag'in' 'em. That timber-buyin' feller, him with th' flowery vest, 'pears t' be eggin' 'em on. I'd like t' know what tli" thunder " I i "I'd kill you, only I haven't time." i , I i ' 1'K O .T1XI' VD.) |