There was a moon, but it was obscured at times by drifting clouds, something rather unusual in that part of the country for a night that was not stormy, and did not threaten to become so. Coming suddenly to the main street of the town, which led straight from the hotel to the jail, Barney paused and listened. He heard a sound that caused his heart to beat faster, while he held his breath and strained his ears. Tramp! tramp! tramp! It was the swift and steady rush of many feet. There was no sound of voices, but the crouching boy knew a body of men was approaching. Barney drew back, concealing himself as well as he could, and waited. Nearer and nearer came the sound. A cloud passed from the face of the moon, and then the watching boy saw a band of men rushing swiftly past his place of concealment. The men were masked, and all were armed. They were moving straight toward the jail. "Th' lynchers!" panted Barney. "They are afther Frankie! Oi must get to th' joail ahead av thim!" He ran back along the side street till he came to another that led in the same direction as the one along which the mob was rushing. Turning toward the jail, he ran as he had never ran before in all his life. On the front door of the jail was a push-button that connected by a wire with a gong within the building. A push on that button set the gong to clamoring loudly. "Rattle-ty-clang-clang! rattle-ty-clang! "Wa'al, what's thet mean?" growled Hank Kildare, as he leaped up from the couch on which he had been reclining lazily. "What derned fool is punchin' away at thet thar button like he hed gone clean daft! Hyar ther critter ring!" Kildare looked at his revolvers, then picked up a short-barreled shotgun, and went out into the corridor that led to the door. Reaching the door, he shot open a small panel and shouted: "Whatever do yer think ye're doin' out thar? Will yer stop thet thar racket, ur shall I guv yer a dost out o' this yar gun!" "Mr. Kildare, is thot yersilf?" panted a voice, which the sheriff had heard before, and which he immediately recognized. "Wa'al, 'tain't nobody else." "Will yes be afther lettin' me in?" "What's ther matter?" "Th' lynchers are comin'!" Kildare peered out, and the moon, which did not happen to be hidden at that moment, showed him the boy who stood alone at the door. Clank, clank, clank!--the sheriff shot back the bolts which held the door, open it swung a bit, out shot his arm, and his fingers closed on Barney Mulloy's shoulder. Snap--the boy was jerked into the jail. Slam--the door closed, and the bolts shot back into place. "Howly shmoke!" gasped Barney. "Is it all togither Oi am, ur be Oi in paces?" "Ye're hyar," came in a growl from the sheriff's throat. "Now tell me w'at yer mean by wakin' me an' kickin' up all this yar row." "Th' lynchers are comin'." "How do yer know?" "Oi saw thim. Less than thray minutes ago." "Where?" "Back a short pace." "How many of them?"