For a moment he lost track of the mob but now he could hear it surging back up the street to the Cattlemen’s Bar. The voices became muted, and Clay knew the crowd had reached the saloon. But they wouldn’t stay there long, he thought. Once they found Marnie and Pike dead and him gone, they would head for the judge’s house with renewed fury. Clay slowed the dun as he neared the patches of yellow light spilling from cell windows. He remembered Molly’s last warning and he searched the shadows beyond the light, seeking some sign of Damson or Kemp Vanner. He kept his .44 in his hand. But the night was still. Clay reined the dun in at the rear door of the jail and left the saddle. He hurried into the sheriff’s office. He saw the blanket-covered mound in Bert Coniff’s cell but went on without pausing. Roy Ponders was on his knees in the doorway, his shotgun held firmly to his shoulder. He swept the empty street with deliberate eyes, as if he hoped to find some movement to shoot at.
