the West were the mule-skinners,
the storekeepers, the farmers who came out in white-topped movers'
wagons. For a time these were submerged by the more sensational gunman,
but in the end they pushed to the top and wiped the "bad man" from the
earth. It was this prosaic class that Billie Prince had resolved to join.

To that resolve he stuck through all the blood-stained years of the
notorious Washington County War. He went about his private affairs with
quiet energy that brought success. He took hay and grain contracts,
bought a freighting outfit, acquired a small but steadily increasing
bunch of cattle. Gradually he bulked larger in the public eye, became an
anchor of safety to whom the people turned after the war had worn itself
out and scattered bands of banditti infested the chaparral to prey upon
the settlers.

This lean, brown-faced man walked the way of the strong. Men recognized
the dynamic force of his close-gripped jaw, the power of his quick,
steady eye, the patience of his courage. The eyes of women followed him
down the street, for there was some arresting quality in the firm, crisp
tread that carried the lithe, smooth-muscled body. With the passage of
years he had grown to a full measure of mental manhood. It was inevitable
that when Washington County set itself to the task of combing the outlaws
from the mesquite it should delegate the job to Billie Prince.

The evening after his election as sheriff, Billie called at the home of
Pauline Roubideau, who was keeping house for her brother. Jack Goodheart
was leaving just as Prince stepped upon the porch. It had been two years
now since Jack had ceased to gravitate in the direction of Lee Snaith.
His eyes and his footsteps for many months had turned often toward Polly.

The gaze of the sheriff-elect followed the lank figure of the retreating
man.

"I've a notion to ask that man to give up a good business to wear a
deputy's star for me," he told Pauline.

"Oh, I wouldn't," she said quickly.

"Why not? He'd be a good man for the job. I want some one game--some one
who will go through when he starts."

His questioning eyes rested on hers. She felt a difficulty in justifying
her protest.

"I don't know--I just thought--"

"I'm waiting," said Prince with a smile.

"He wouldn't take it, would he?" she fenced.

"If it was put up to him right I think he would. Of course, it would be a
sacrifice for him to make, but good citizens have to do that these day