It was
a two-story building of wood, but very strongly built, and unless they
tried fire the sheriff hoped to keep the besiegers at bay for a little
while yet. He stationed Doty at one window, and himself took position at
another, each with loaded pistols, which were only to be used as before--to
make "the dirt jump."
"To tell you the truth, Doty," the sheriff said, "if you boys had had any
sense, you'd have overpowered me last night, and we'd not have had all this
trouble."
"We wanted to," Doty answered, "but you're new at the business, an' you
talked so big we didn't like to make you feel little."
"Here they come!" the sheriff went on, as the stout gate swayed inwards.
"One more good lick an' it's down. That's it. Now keep the dirt dancin',
Doty, but don't hurt anybody."
Mr. Morris was in the lead, and apparently did not see the "dancin' dirt,"
for he approached the jail at a run.
"It's no use, Doty," the sheriff said; "all we can do is to wait till they
get in, for I'm not going to shoot anybody. It may be wrong to lynch, but
in a case like this it's the rightest wrong that ever was.
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