They are a band sworn to protect one
another."
"His friends?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Ah, I see." He glanced at the two doors, one opening into the hall,
the other into his room, and then he swayed and clutched the curtain.
She caught his arm and braced him up. "Oh, you _must_ go lie down;
you'll--"
A noise outside drew her back to the window. The band was crossing the
street to the jail.
"What are they going to do?" He steadied himself, resting his hand on
her shoulder, and looked through a pane above her head.
"To take Toot out."
"An' then he'll lead them, won't he?"
"I don't know! I reckon so--oh, I can't tell!" She faced him for an
instant, a look of helpless indecision in her eyes; then she turned
again to the window.
"I'll go slip on my coat," he said. "I--I'm cold. I'd better get
ready. You see, he may want to--call me out. I wish I had a gun--or
something."
She made no answer, and he went into his room. He turned up the lamp,
but quickly lowered it again. He found his coat on a chair and put it
on. He wondered if he were actually afraid.
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