val. He noted the Eastern cut of the young man's clothing
and beneath the dust of travel the clear, healthy white skin of his
face. "Stranger here?" observed the agent, with a slight, humorous
narrowing of the eyes.

"Yes."

"No, I don't mind," resumed the agent, answering the young man's
question. "You won't have any trouble findin' the courthouse. There's
only one street in this town an' the courthouse is down to the other end
of it--you couldn't miss it if you tried." He grinned with some
amusement at the young man's back as the latter with a cordial "thank
you," returned to his suit cases, gripped them firmly by the handles,
and strode down the wooden platform toward the street, ignoring the
group of loungers at the corner of the station.

"'Nother tenderfoot," remarked one of the loungers as the young man
passed out of hearing; "they're runnin' this country plum to hell!"

The young man strode slowly down the board sidewalk that paralleled the
buildings on one side of the street, mentally taking in the dimensions
of the town. It was not an inviting picture. Many buildings of various
descriptions snuggled the wide, vacant space which the station agent had
termed a "street." Most of the buildings were unpainted and crude,
composed of rough boards running perpendicularly, with narrow battens
over the joints. There were several brick buildings two stories in
height, bearing the appearance of having been recently erected, and
these towered over the squat, one-story frames in seeming contemptuous
dignity. There were many private dwellings, some stores, but the young
man's first impression was that there was an enormous number of saloons.

He saw few people; those who came within range of vision were apparently
cowboys, for they were rigged in the picturesque garb that he had
studied many times in the illustrations of Eastern magazines. He had
admired them afar, for there was something about them, something in the
free, wild life they led, that appealed to him; something that struck at
the primitive in his heart. He had heard tales of them; travelers
returning from these regions had related sundry stories of these wild
men of the plains; stories of their hardihood, of their recklessness, of
their absolute fearlessness--clothing them with a glamor and romance
that had deeply impressed the young man. His own life had been rather
prosaic.

He saw some cowponies hitched to rails in front of several of the
saloons; in f