H. Bedford-Jones

“ CHAPTER X AS the shot rang out, Jimmy Basset jumped into the air, then stood staring at his arm that dripped blood. A voice struck on the silence—a voice from the edge of the trees.
“All right, boys—hands up all around! Sheriff Fulsom talking, and two guns to talk with. ”

“ First man moves gets a bullet in the leg.”
That crisp, businesslike voice bit into their drunken senses like acid. Hardrock lay where they dropped him. Sheriff Fulsom stepped forward into the circle of light, a pistol in each hand, and not one of the islanders moved, after reaching upward.
“Cut loose that man Hardrock and do it durned quick. He's a Deputy Sheriff of this county, if ye want to know who he is. Cut him loose, Willy John. Move sharp.” ”