The yells of the attackers mingled with the sound of the
axe-blows and the report of revolvers from inside the building.
Among those nearest to the door being battered down were Denver
and the few men he had with him. His plan offered merely a
forlorn hope. It was that in the first scramble to get in after
the way was opened he and his friends might push up the stairs in
the van, and hold the corridor for as long as they could against
the furious mob.
It took less than a quarter of an hour to batter down the door,
and among the first of those who sprang across the threshold were
Denver, Missou, Frisco and their allies. While others stopped to
overpower the struggling deputies according to the arranged
farce, they hurried upstairs and discovered the cell in which
their friends were fastened.
Frisco passed a revolver through the grating to McWilliams, and
another to Bannister. "Haven't got the keys, so I can't let y'u
out, old hoss," he told the foreman. "But mebbe y'u won't feel so
lonesome with these little toys to play with."
Meanwhile Denver, a young giant of seventy-six inches, held the
head of the stairs, with four stalwart plainsmen back of him. The
rush of many feet came up pell-mell, and he flung the leaders
back on those behind.
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