“Maybe he went to sleep,” suggested Dolan.

“Not Shorty,” denied the sheriff, with a decisive shake of his head. 
“I’ve used Shorty before.  He don’t go to sleep on duty, Shorty don’t. 
Here he is now.”

Entered then Shorty Rumbold, a tall, lean-bodied man with a twinkling eye and a square chin.

“Shorty,” said Dolan, “Jake says he put you on guard here last night.”

“Not here,” said Shorty, always painfully meticulous as to facts.  “Outside.”

“Where outside?”

“Just outside.  I sat on the doorstep all night.”

“And didn’t you go round to the back once even?”

“I didn’t think they was any use.  They’s no door in the back, and the logs are forty inches through, some of ’em.  I never thought of ’em gopherin’ under this away.”

“I guess the sheriff didn’t, either,” said Dolan, with a glance of strong disapproval at the sheriff.  “You didn’t hear anything, huh?  Yo’re shore of that?”

“Shore I am.  If I’d heard anything I’d ‘a’ scouted round to see what made the noise.”

“Maybe you went to sleep.”

“Not me.”  The twinkle in Shorty’s eyes was replaced by a frosty stare.  “I don’t sleep on duty, Judge.”

“That’s what the sheriff said, Shorty.  But, hownell they could dig that tunnel and not make some noise I don’t see.”

“I don’t, either,” Shorty Rumbold admitted, frankly.  “But I didn’t hear a single suspicious sound either inside or outside the jail the whole night.”

“Did you hear any noise a-tall?” asked Racey Dawson.

“Only when some drunk gents had a argument out in front of the dance hall.  You couldn’t help hearin’ ’em.  They made noise enough to hear ’em a mile.”

“How long did the argument last?”

“Oh, maybe a hour—­a long time for a plain argument without any shooting.”

“Did they call each other any fighting names?” pressed on Racey.

“Plenty.”

“And no shooting?”

“Nary a shot.”

“Didn’t that hit you as kind of odd?”

“It did at the time sort of.”

“Recognize any of the voices?”

Shorty Rumbold shook his head.  “They was all too hoarse an’ loud.”

“That’s the how of it, Judge,” said Racey to Dolan.  “That’s why Shorty didn’t hear any sounds of diggin’.  The drunk gents a rowing together for a long time like that without any shooting proves they were doing it on purpose to keep Shorty from hearing anything else.”

The sheriff swore.  “I heard them fellers, too,” he said.  “They woke me up with their bellerin’ and I had a job gettin’ to sleep again.  I guess Racey’s right.”

“I guess he is,” assented the Judge.  “Now we know how they managed that part of it, where did they get the key to open the cuffs?  Kansas says you ain’t lost any keys, Jake.”

“We got ’em all, every one.  I don’t believe they used a key.  Them handcuff locks was picked.”