He had a gun in his hand, and his manner was that of fierce energy.
The cowboy Sibert thrust open the jostling circle of men.
"Hold on, Jeff," he called, and he blocked the man with the gun.

He spoke so low Duane could not hear what he said, and his form hid Aiken's face.

At that juncture the crowd spread out, closed in, and Aiken and Sibert were caught in the circle.

There was a pushing forward, a pressing of many bodies, hoarse cries and flinging hands--again the insane tumult was about to break out--the demand for an outlaw's blood, the call for a wild justice executed a thousand times before on Texas's bloody soil.
Sibert bellowed at the dark encroaching mass.

The cowboys with him beat and cuffed in vain.
"Jeff, will you listen ?" broke in Sibert, hurriedly, his hand on the other man's arm.
Aiken nodded coolly.