"Then this yere gal; she wrote me she'd gone back East."
Westcott laughed.
"Stow your grouch, old man, and give us a hand. There will be no
lynching, because Lacy is in the hands of the marshal. As to this
lady, she never sent you that note. She was abducted by force, and has
just escaped. Don't stand there like a fool."
"But where did yer come from? This yere is Matt Moore's outfit."
"From the Shoshone Desert, if you must know. I'll tell you the story
later. There's a wounded man under the canvas there. Come on, and
help me carry him inside."
Timmons, sputtering but impotent to resist, took hold reluctantly, and
the two together bore the helpless Cavendish through the deserted
office and up the stairs to the second floor, where he was comfortably
settled and a doctor sent for. The task was sufficiently strenuous to
require all the breath Timmons possessed, and he managed to repress his
eager curiosity until the wounded man had been attended to. Once in
the hall, however, and the door closed, he could no longer control
himself.
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