But Judson, trained to the swift handling of
many mechanisms in the moment of respite before a wreck or a
derailment, was ready for him.
"Bart's afraid he can't duck without dying," he said grimly, screening
himself behind his captive. Then to the others, in the same unhasting
tone: "Some of you fellows just quiet Sammy down till I get out of here
with this peach of mine. I've got the papers, and I know what I'm doin';
if this thing I'm holdin' against Bart's back should happen to go
off----"
That ended it, so far as resistance was concerned. Judson backed quickly
out through the bar-room, drawing his prisoner backward after him; and a
moment later Angels was properly electrified by the sight of Rufford,
the Red Desert terror, marching sullenly down to the Crow's Nest, with a
fiery-headed little man at his elbow, the little man swinging the weapon
which had been made to simulate the cold muzzle of the revolver when he
had pressed it into Rufford's back at the gaming-table.
It was nothing more formidable than a short, thick "S"-wrench, of the
kind used by locomotive engineers in tightening the nuts of the
piston-rod packing glands.
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