Grant stood forward. "We'll give you half a minute to send somebody out to talk to us, and then we're coming in," he said. The time was almost up before a voice rose from the building: "Who are you, any way, and what do you want?" "Homesteaders," was the answer. "We want the Sheriff." "Well," said somebody, "I'll tell him." Except for a growing clamour in the street behind there was silence until Breckenridge, who stood near Grant touched him, "I don't want to meddle, but aren't we giving them an opportunity of securing their prisoners or making their defences good?" he said. "That's sense, any way," said another man. "It would be 'way better to go right in now, while we can." Grant shook his head. "You have left this thing to me, and I want to put it through without losing a man. Men don't usually back down when the shooting begins." Then a voice rose from the building: "You wanted the Sheriff. Here he is." A shadowy figure appeared at a window, and there was a murmur from Grant's men. "He needn't be bashful," said one of them. "Nobody's going to hurt him. Can't you bring a light, so we can see him?" A burst of laughter followed, and Grant held up his hand. "It would be better, Sheriff; and you have my word that we'll give you notice before we do anything if we can't come to terms." It seemed from the delay that the Sheriff was undecided, but at last a light was brought, and the men below saw him standing at the window with an anxious face, and behind him two men with rifles, whose dress proclaimed them stockriders. He could also see the horsemen below, as Grant, who waited until the sight had made its due impression, had intended that he should. There were a good many of them, and the effect of their silence and the twinkling of light on their rifles was greater than that of any uproar would have been. "Now you can see me, you needn't keep me waiting," said the Sheriff, with an attempt at jauntiness which betrayed his anxiety. "What do you want?" "Two of your prisoners," said Grant. "I'm sorry you can't have them," said the Sheriff. "Hadn't you better ride home again before I turn the boys loose on you?" But his voice was not quite in keeping with his words, and it would have been wiser if he had turned his face aside. "It's a little too far to ride back without getting what we came for," said Grant quietly. "Now, we have no great use for talking. We want two homesteaders, and we mean to get them; but that will satisfy us." "You want nobody else?" "No. You can keep your criminals, or let them go, just as it suits you." There was a laugh from some of the horsemen, which was taken up by the crowd and swelled into a storm of cries. Some expressed approval, others anger, and the Sheriff stepped backwards. "Then," he said hoarsely, "if you want your friends, you must take them." The next moment the window shut with a bang, and the light died out, leaving the building once more in darkness.