"Quick!" said Glenning. "They're coming! Arm yourself!"
The man stood shaking in the doorway, but did not answer. John grasped him by the shoulder, and spoke again.
"Don't you hear? They're coming for your prisoner to hang him! Protect him! Get your pistol and guard the jail!"
"Who?--What?" stammered the terrified man.
"The mob! I've seen them gathering! You've no time to lose!"
"I'll give 'em the keys if they ask me for 'em!" exclaimed the jailer. "They'd shoot me if I didn't!"
"You're sworn to duty!" expostulated John. "Don't let them murder this fellow. Has Goodloe died?"
"I don't know--but they can have the keys!"
He drew them from his pocket and jangled them in his hand, a pitiful object.
"Listen!" whispered Glenning. "They're coming. Hear their feet? Give me your keys! Bring me your pistols--quick!"
He took the bunch of heavy keys from the unresisting fingers, and the jailer hastened indoors. He was back in a moment with a brace of revolvers which he held out eagerly.
"Here they are!" he managed to say. "Keep 'em off, doc, if you can!"
"Go hide in the cellar, if you have one!" returned John, contemptuously, and walked to the iron-barred door set in a stone wall, which gave entrance to the main passage of the jail.
In front of this door was a small, elevated platform, not over six feet square. Above the door a lamp burned in an iron sconce set in the masonry. This was placed there for convenience in housing prisoners at all hours. John looked at the lamp a moment in doubt, then walked to it and turned the wick higher, so that the low flame sprang up and illuminated the platform upon which he stood, as well as the ground in front for several yards. As he faced about a reckless, devil-may-care smile was on his lips. At one side lay a goods-box, some three feet tall. John stooped and dragged it to the platform, and stood it on end in front of him. His purpose was not to form a shield, for the frail pine of which it was made could not have withstood a bullet, and it came scarcely to his waist, leaving exposed all vital parts. Glenning quietly dropped the keys in the long grass at the edge of the platform, took off his hat and placed it to one side, then lay his two revolvers upon the top of the box, gently rested his hand upon the butt of each, and waited. The revolvers were of forty-eight calibre, and brightly nickeled. They caught the gleam from the lamp, and shone suggestively. The jailer had disappeared. John had heard him locking and barricading his door. In all probability he had deserted the place by some rear exit.