nd him earnestly for a moment; then, as his
audience remained silent, he went on:

"I'm older'n you men, an' I've lived a heap in my time. For nearly forty
years I've been knockin' 'round this Western country without no nurse or
guardeen to look after me. I've mixed with all kinds, and I've been in
some scrapes; there's notches on my gun handles to prove that I ain't
been no quitter. I've rode with the vigilantes more'n once, and the
vigilantes has rode after me--more'n once; in my young days I wa'n't
exactly what you'd call a nickel-plated saint. But I never killed a man,
'cept in a fair fight, an' I don't believe in violence unless it's
necessary. It's necessary right now, fellers! Moran's gone too far!
Things have drawed to a point where we've got to fight or quit. In my
experience, I ain't never seen but one judge that couldn't be bought;
money an' influence don't count a whoop with him. It's Judge Colt,
gents! You all know him; an' with him on our side we can round up Moran
an' his crew of gun-fighters, an' ship 'em out of the country for keeps.
Now's the time! The quicker we get busy, the quicker the air in these
hills will be fit for a white man to breathe."

"It's a go with me," Lem Trowbridge declared grimly. "That's what I'm
here for. How about the rest of you?"

When the other stock men assented, Wade smiled, for he knew their type.
Honest, hard-working, peace-loving men though they were, when aroused
they possessed the courage and tenacity of bull-dogs. They were aroused
now, and they would carry on to the end, with a step as firm and
relentless as the march of Time. Woe to whoever attempted to thwart them
in their purpose!

Wade's neighbor to the north, Dave Kelly, spoke up in his slow, nasal
drawl. "You say there's to be no lynchin'," he remarked. "How about Tug
Bailey, when he gets here from Sheridan? According to what Lem says,
Bailey shot Jensen."

"Sure, he did," Trowbridge put in. "We'll just slip a noose over his
head and make him confess. That'll publicly clear Gordon and Bill. Then
we'll give him a good coat of tar and feathers and run him out of town."

"That's right," said Santry. "Jensen was only a Swede and a sheepherder.
This here committee's to protect men."

Kelly chuckled. "Have it your own way," he said. "I'm not particular. As
it is, there'll be plenty doing."

For an hour or more the cattlemen went over the plan of their campaign,
which worked out into simplicity itself. Early t