The colonel got up. Calmly he drew a canvas bag from his pocket, and deliberately placed his gold bars within it; then, holding the bag in one hand, he allowed the other to dart toward his hip--a move young King had seen before.
The officer grabbed a revolver out of the colonel’s hand in just the nick of time. There was a brief struggle, but the colonel got the worst of it.
“I’ll play even with that cub of a Matt King,” the colonel was heard to breathe, “if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“Take him out, officer,” said Hiram McCormick, in undisguised contempt, “and, of course, you’ll confiscate the weapon. This is not Arizona.”
None too gently the policeman hustled Colonel Billings out of the door. Hardly had they left when McGlory staggered, tossed his hands, and fell heavily into Matt’s arms.
Instantly there was a flurry of excitement in the office, Griggs, McCormick, and the others all hurrying forward to be of what assistance they could.
Joe McGlory drifted back to conscience amid surroundings that were entirely new to him. He was in a white iron bed. On one side of the bed stood a woman in a white cap and apron, and on the other side was a man in black. Over the foot of the bed leaned Matt, his anxious face clearing a little as McGlory opened his eyes.
“In the emergency ward of the City Hospital,” answered the doctor.
“I’ve got about as much right here as a maverick steer in a watermelon patch. Sufferin’ sister, what a jolt!”
A smile sneaked over the doctor’s face. The nurse turned her head. Matt laughed, highly delighted.
“He’ll be all right, don’t you think so, doctor?” Matt asked.
“A lad who can come out from under the influence of a narcotic with such a flow of spirits,” averred the doctor, “is bound to be all right.”
“What’s the matter with me?” the cowboy asked.
“I thought I’d busted something! Say, Matt!”
“The last I remember I was in the office of Random & Griggs. When was that?”
The cowboy turned his head so he could see the sunlight coming through the window.
“When will I get out of here, doc? This afternoon?”
“If you get out of here in less than two weeks you’ll do well,” said the doctor.
“Speak to me about that!” muttered McGlory.
“It’s all right, Joe,” said Matt. “I’ll be here every day to see you.”