When
he spoke, almost in a whisper, his teeth chattered.
"All ready, sir."
"The wires are cut?" demanded his leader crisply.
"Yes, sir."
"On both sides?"
"On both sides."
His chief relieved the operator of the revolver in his desk,
broke it, emptied out the shells, and flung them through the
window, then tossed the weapon back to its owner.
"You'll not shoot yourself by accident now," he explained, and
with that he had followed his companion into the night.
There came to the station agent the sound of galloping horses,
growing fainter, until a heavy silence seemed to fill the night.
He stole to the door and locked it, pulled down the window
blinds, and then reloaded his revolver with feverish haste. This
done, he sat down before his keys with the weapon close at hand
and frantically called for Tucson over and over again. No answer
came to him, nor from the other direction when he tried that. The
young bandit had told the truth. His companions had cut the wires
and so isolated from the world for the time the scene of the
hold-up. The agent understood now why the leader of the outlaws
had honored him with so much of his valuable time.
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