Part 2 What Occurred in Glencaid Chapter 12 The Cohorts of Judge Lynch

"Stand aside, gentlemen," he commanded. "Step back, and let me pass!"

They obeyed. He swept them with watchful eyes, stepped past, and
slammed the door behind him. In his heart he held them as curs, but
curs could snap, and enough of them might dare to pull him down. Men
were already beginning to pour into the saloon, uncertain yet of the
facts, and shouting questions to each other. Totally ignoring these,
Hampton thrust himself recklessly through the crowd. Half-way down the
broad steps Buck Mason faced him, in shirt sleeves, his head uncovered,
an ugly "45" in his up-lifted hand. Just an instant the eyes of the
two men met, and neither doubted the grim purpose of the other.

"You've got ter do it, Bob," announced the marshal, shortly, "dead er
alive."

Hampton never hesitated. "I 'm sorry I met you. I don't want to get
anybody else mixed up in this fuss. If you'll promise me a chance for
my life, Buck, I 'll throw up my hands. But I prefer a bullet to a
mob."

The little marshal was sandy-haired, freckle-faced, and all nerve. He
cast one quick glance to left and right. The crowd jammed within the
Occidental had already turned and were surging toward the door; the
hotel opposite was beginning to swarm; down the street a throng of men
was pouring forth from the Miners' Retreat, yelling fiercely, while
hurrying figures could be distinguished here and there among the
scattered buildings, all headed in their direction. Hampton knew from
long experience what this meant; these were the quickly inflamed
cohorts of Judge Lynch--they would act first, and reflect later. His
square jaws set like a trap.