ssee, a
hanging or two would clear the air!" His emotions became a rage that
blew through him like a gale, shaking him to his center.

Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his door
during the night a folded paper. It contained a single line of writing:

"You talk too much. Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went."

Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear. He was, for
instance, afraid of snakes--both kinds--and mobs he had dreaded
desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but beyond this, fear
remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price, and as he examined the
scrawl a smile betokening supreme satisfaction overspread his battered
features. He was agreeably affected by the situation; indeed he was
delighted. His activities were being recognized; he had made his
impression; the cutthroats had selected him to threaten. Well, the
damned rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that! Swelling
with pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy.

"They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have them on
the run yet!" he declared.

"You are going out of your way to hunt trouble--as if you hadn't enough
at the best of times, Price! Let these people manage their own affairs,
don't you mix up in them," advised the conservative Mahaffy.

The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride.

"Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this sort of
thing? No, sir! No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made that will fit my
mouth."

A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul.

"Glance at that, my friend!" he cried, as he tossed the paper on the
clerk's desk. "Eh, what?--no joke about that, Mr. Saul. I found it under
my door this morning." Mr. Saul glanced at the penciled lines and drew
in his breath sharply. "What do you make of it, sir?" demanded the judge
anxiously.

"Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still."

"You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and not as
the joke of some irresponsible humorist?"

"It's authentic enough," said Mr. Saul impatiently.

The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little clerk
who had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had assailed him.

"Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in
contempt; if I have given offense it is to an element I shall never seek
to conciliate." Mr. Saul was clearly divided between his admiration for
the judge's