entered the hotel. Two sentences exchanged between Hopi Jim and a blear-eyed fellow behind the bar sealed their confidence with conviction: the three fugitives were guests of the house, occupying two of the three rooms that composed its upper story.
In the rush that followed up the narrow stairway Judith led with such spirit that not even Marrophat suspected her revolver was poised solely with intent to shoot his own from his hand the instant he levelled it at a human target.
Closed and locked doors confronted them, and their summons educed no response; while the first door, when broken in, discovered nothing more satisfactory than an unoccupied room, its empty bed bearing the imprint of a woman's body. From the one window, looking down the side of the house, Texas announced that the woman had not escaped by jumping out.
So it seemed that the three must have had warning of their arrival, after all, and presumably were now herded together in the adjoining room, which looked out over the veranda roof, waiting in fear and trembling for the assault that soon came.
But it met with more stubborn resistance than had been anticipated. The door had been barricaded from within. Four minutes and the united efforts of four men (including the bleary loafer of the barroom) were required to overcome its inert resistance. Even
