ese people." He was interrupted
by firing from across the square. "In an hour they will have every
store in Front Street looted."

The deliberation for a few moments was a stormy one, but Stanley held
his ground. "Desperate diseases, gentlemen," he said, addressing
Atkinson and his companions, "require desperate remedies, and you must
sometime come to what I propose."

"What you propose," returned Atkinson gloomily, "will ruin us."

Stanley answered with composure: "You are ruined now. What you should
consider is whether, if you don't cut this cancer of gambling,
outlawry, and murder out while you have a chance, it won't remain to
plague you as long as you do business in Medicine Bend, and remain to
ruin you periodically. This is always going to be a town and a big
one. As long as this railroad is operated, this ground where we stand
is and must be the chief operating point for the whole mountain
division. You and I may be wiped out of existence and the railroad
will go on as before. But it is for you to accept or reject what I
propose as the riddance of this curse to your community.

"The railroad has been drawn into this fight by assault upon its men.
It can meet violence with violence and protect itself, or it can
temporarily abandon a town where protection is not afforded its lives
and property. In an emergency, trains could be run through Medicine
Bend without stopping. The right of way could be manned with
soldiers. But the railroad can't supply men enough to preserve in your
town the law and order which you yourselves ought to preserve. And if
we were compelled to build division facilities, temporarily,
elsewhere, while they would ultimately come back here, it might be
years before they did so. What else but your ruin would this mean?"

He had hardly ceased speaking when the conference was broken in upon.
Bob Scott ushered in two men sent under a flag of truce from the
rioters. The offer they brought was that Rebstock and Seagrue should
be surrendered, provided Stanley would give his personal pledge that
the two should not be shot but sent out of town until peace was
restored, and that they should be accorded a fair trial when brought
back.

Stanley listened carefully to all that was said:

"Who sent you?" he demanded.

"The committee up street," returned the envoys evasively.

"You mean Levake sent you," retorted Stanley. He sat at his desk and
eyed the two ruffians, as they faced him somewhat nervous