to the usual run of strangers I
had been in the habit of seeing. The Sneckers had gone or were under
cover. Again I caught a vague rumor of the coming of Jack Blome, yet he
never seemed to arrive.

Moreover, the goings-on among the habitues of the resorts and the
cowboys who came in to drink and gamble were unusually mild in
comparison with former conduct.

This lull, however, did not deceive Steele and me. It could not last.
The wonder was that it had lasted so long.

There was, of course, no post office in Linrock. A stage arrived twice
a week from Sanderson, if it did not get held up on the way, and the
driver usually had letters, which he turned over to the elderly keeper
of a little store.

This man's name was Jones, and everybody liked him. On the evenings the
stage arrived there was always a crowd at his store, which fact was a
source of no little revenue to him.

One night, so we ascertained, after the crowd had dispersed, two thugs
entered his store, beat the old man and robbed him. He made no
complaint; however, when Steele called him he rather reluctantly gave
not only descriptions of his assailants, but their names.

Steele straightaway went in search of the men and came across them in
Lerett's place. I was around when it happened.

Steele strode up to a table which was surrounded by seven or eight men
and he tapped Sim Bass on the shoulder.

"Get up, I want you," he said.

Bass looked up only to see who had accosted him.

"The hell you say!" he replied impudently.

Steele's big hand shifted to the fellow's collar. One jerk, seemingly no
effort at all, sent Bass sliding, chair and all, to crash into the bar
and fall in a heap. He lay there, wondering what had struck him.

"Miller, I want you. Get up," said Steele.

Miller complied with alacrity. A sharp kick put more life and
understanding into Bass.

Then Steele searched these men right before the eyes of their comrades,
took what money and weapons they had, and marched them out, followed by
a crowd that gathered more and more to it as they went down the street.
Steele took his prisoners into Jones' store, had them identified;
returned the money they had stolen, and then, pushing the two through
the gaping crowd, he marched them down to his stone jail and locked them
up.

Obviously the serious side of this incident was entirely lost upon the
highly entertained audience. Many and loud were the coarse jokes cracked
at the expense of Bass