“Make a noise and you die,” she whispered. She jingled her cuffs. “The key.”
“I—I don’t—”
“The key, Fred.”
“I don’t got it! Honest! Hearst, he’s the only one with it.”
Shouts echoed from outside the cab. Gunshots followed suit. Deputy Marsh tried to make a break for it, but Violet slammed the butt of the rifle against his temple, and he passed out cold on the cab floor. The stagecoach jerked violently, and Violet tumbled into the seat. Righting herself, she looked out the window. To her great pleasure, she saw three distinct horse riders zigzagging their way through Hearst’s men. The Railwalkers had come to the rescue.