But for the moment the attackers were inclined to parley. Their leader stepped out and held up a hand for a suspension of hostilities. He was a large man, heavily built, and powerful as a bear. There was about him an air of authority, as of one used to being obeyed. He was dressed roughly enough in corduroy and miner's half-leg boots, but these were of the most expensive material and cut. His cold gray eye and thin lips denied the manner of superficial heartiness he habitually carried. If one scratched the veneer of good nature it was to find a hard selfishness that went to his core. “It's Mr. Dunke!” the young school-teacher cried aloud in surprise. “I've got something to say to you, Mr. Lieutenant Ranger,” he announced, with importance. “Uncork it,” was Fraser's advice. “We don't want to have any trouble with you, but we're here for business. This man is a cold-blooded murderer and we mean to do justice on him.” Steve laughed insolently. “If all them that hollers for justice the loudest got it done to them, Mr. Dunke, there'd be a right smart shrinkage in the census returns.” Dunke's eye gleamed with anger. “We're not here to listen to any smart guys, sir. Will you give up Struve to us or will you not?” “That's easy. I will not.” The mob leader turned to the Tennessean. “Young man, I don't know who you are, but if you mean to butt into a quarrel that ain't yours all I've got to say is that you're hunting an early grave.” “We'll know about that later, seh.” “You stand pat, do you?” “Well, seh, I draw to a pair that opens the pot anyhow,” answered Larry, with a slight motion of his weapons. Dunke fell back into the mob, a shot rang out into the night, and the crowd swayed forward. But at that instant the door behind Fraser swung open. A frightened voice sounded in his ear. “Quick, Steve!” The ranger slewed his head, gave an exclamation of surprise, and hurriedly threw his prisoner into the open passage. “Back, Larry! Lively, my boy!” he ordered. Neill leaped back in a spatter of bullets that rained round him. Next moment the door was swung shut again. “You all right, Nell?” asked Fraser quickly of the young woman who had opened the door, and upon her affirmative reply he added: “Everybody alive and kicking? Nobody get a pill?” “I'm all right for one,” returned Larry. “But we had better get out of this passage. I notice our friends the enemy are sending their cards through the door after us right anxious.” As he spoke a bullet tore a jagged splinter from a panel and buried itself in the ceiling. A second and a third followed. “That's c'rect. We'd better be 'Not at home' when they call. Eh, Nell?” Steve put an arm affectionately round the waist of the young woman who had come in such timely fashion to their aid and ran through the passage with her to the room beyond, Neill following with the prisoner. “You're wounded, Steve,” the young woman cried.