Throop addressed the crowd, which was swiftly augmenting. "Clear out of
this, now! _Vamose_, every man of you, or I'll run you all in. Clear
out, I say!" The throng began to move away, for the gestures with which
he indicated his meaning were made sinisterly significant by the weapon
which he swung. The leaders fell back and began to move away. Throop
said to the ranger: "Hans, you come with me. The coroner wants you."
Hanscom returned the revolver to the man from whom he had snatched it.
"I'm much obliged, Pete," he said, with a note of humor. "Hope I didn't
do any damage. I didn't have time to see who was coming. I wouldn't have
been so rough if I'd known it was you."
The other fellow grinned. "'Peared to me like you'd made a mistake, but
I couldn't blame you. Feller has to act quick in a case like that."
"Bring your prisoner here," called Carmody from his open door. "I'll
take care of him."
"I'll get you yet," called Kitsong, venomously. "I'll get you
to-morrow!"
"Go along out o' here!" repeated the sheriff, hustling him off the walk.
"You're drunk and disturbing the peace. Go home and go to bed."
With a sense of having made a bad matter worse the ranger followed the
coroner into his office and closed the door.