“From over to the right. I see men there now See! Up against that hill.” Slim pointed toward the group in the shadow. Yorky hailed them. “That you, Sig?” “Yuh bane von good guesser,” answered the Norwegian. “How many of you are there?” “Four, Yorky,” Fraser replied. “There are six of us. We've got you outnumbered, boys.” Very faintly there came to the lieutenant the beat of horses' feet. He sparred for time. “What do you want, Yorky?” “You know what we want. That murderer you've got there--that's what we want.” “We're taking him in to be tried, Yorky. Justice will be done to him.” “Not at Gimlet Butte it won't. No jury will convict him for killing Jed Briscoe, from Lost Valley. We're going to hang him, right now.” “You'll have to fight for him, my friend, and before you do that I want you to understand the facts.” “We understand all the facts we need to, right now.” The lieutenant rode forward alone. He knew that soon they too would hear the rhythmic beat of the advancing posse. “We've got all night to settle this, boys. Let's do what is fair and square. That's all I ask.” “Now you're shouting, lieutenant. That's all we ask.” “It depends on what you mean by fair and square,” another one spoke up. The ranger nodded amiably at him. “That you, Harris? Well, let's look at the facts right. Here's Lost Valley, that's had a bad name ever since it was inhabited. Far as I can make out its settlers are honest men, regarded outside as miscreants. Just as folks were beginning to forget it, comes the Squaw Creek raid. Now, I'm not going into that, and I'm not going to say a word against the man that lies dead up in the hills. But I'll say this: His death solves a problem for a good many of the boys up there. I'm going to make it my business to see that the facts are known right down in Gimlet Butte. I'm going to lift the blame from the boys that were present, and couldn't help what happened.” Yorky was impressed, but suspicion was not yet banished from his mind. “You seem to know a lot about it, lieutenant.” “No use discussing that, Yorky. I know what I know. Here's the great big point: If you lynch the man that shot Jed, the word will go out that the valley is still a nest of lawless outlaws. The story will be that the Squaw Creek raiders and their friends did it. Just as the situation is clearing up nicely, you'll make it a hundred times worse by seeming to indorse what Jed did on Squaw Creek.” “By thunder, that's right,” Harris blurted. Fraser spoke again. “Listen, boys. Do you hear horses galloping? That is Sheriff Brandt's deputies, coming to our assistance. You've lost the game, but you can save your faces yet. Join us, and kelp escort the prisoner to town. Nobody need know why you came out. We'll put it that it was to guard against a lynching.”