"What's up? What's Hank done?" queried the judge.
"Shot Dick Goodloe!" answered the deputy, quickly, he and the smith hurrying their man forward as rapidly as possible. On the other side of the yard was a little gate, and it was for this they were heading, it being the nearest approach to the jail. "Keep back the crowd, Joe, till we get Hank in!" called the deputy, and they pushed on.
The crowd as yet, however, was entirely harmless, and was centered about some indistinguishable object in the middle of the street. The live assassin was far less interesting than the fallen officer, for Dick Goodloe was the town marshal; an honest, sober, efficient fellow whom everyone admired for his adherence to duty. Not three minutes had passed since the shot split the warm, still air. Before, the town had seemed only half alive; a few people on the street, a few men in the store doors, a few loitering negroes. Now a seething mass of humanity of all ages was congregated in front of the post-office, almost from curb to curb, and those who had first reached the marshal were so pushed upon and hampered that they could do nothing.
John was in his office when the unmistakable sound came spitefully through his window, and caused him to seize his hat and run down stairs. The mishap had occurred at the other end of the square, and when he reached the scene it was to find his way blocked by a human wall.
"Get out of my way!" he called, in a loud, clear voice, and begun pushing his body in, using his hands, elbows and knees irrespective of who they touched. "Stand back! You'll smother him! Back! Back!" he commanded, and the stern voice carried weight. They made room for him, and directly he was kneeling by the prostrate form. A brief examination showed him it was bad enough. A ball through the man's right side, with blood spouting from the wound.
"Where does he live?" he asked, quickly, turning his head and looking up half savagely. "How far?"
"Half mile, I reck'n, anyhow," answered a bystander, with his hands in his pockets.
"Lift his feet; I'll take his head and shoulders," said Glenning, to a determined looking man in front of him. "Into the drug store yonder. It's quick work now, or he's gone!"