the bench and with an
unsteady hand reached down to support himself.

He was no longer young, and he seemed broken in health and spirit. He
had been hurt somewhat about the head.

"I haven't much to say," he replied. "The Ranger dragged me here. I told
him I didn't take my troubles to court. Besides, I can't swear it was
Snell who hit me."

Sampson said something in an undertone to Judge Owens, and that worthy
nodded his great, bushy head.

"Bud, you're discharged," said Sampson bluntly. "Now, the rest of you
clear out of here."

He absolutely ignored the Ranger. That was his rebuff to Steele's
advances, his slap in the face to an interfering Ranger Service.

If Sampson was crooked he certainly had magnificent nerve. I almost
decided he was above suspicion. But his nonchalance, his air of
finality, his authoritative assurance--these to my keen and practiced
eyes were in significant contrast to a certain tenseness of line about
his mouth and a slow paling of his olive skin.

He had crossed the path of Vaughn Steele; he had blocked the way of this
Texas Ranger. If he had intelligence and remembered Steele's fame, which
surely he had, then he had some appreciation of what he had undertaken.

In that momentary lull my scrutiny of Sampson gathered an impression of
the man's intense curiosity.

Then Bud Snell, with a cough that broke the silence, shuffled a couple
of steps toward the door.

"Hold on!" called Steele.

It was a bugle-call. It halted Snell as if it had been a bullet. He
seemed to shrink.

"Sampson, I _saw_ Snell attack Hoden," said Steele, his voice still
ringing. "What has the court to say to that?"

The moment for open rupture between Ranger Service and Sampson's idea of
law was at hand. Sampson showed not the slightest hesitation.

"The court has to say this: West of the Pecos we'll not aid or abet or
accept any Ranger Service. Steele, we don't want you out here. Linrock
doesn't need you."

"That's a lie, Sampson," retorted Steele. "I've a pocket full of letters
from Linrock citizens, all begging for Ranger Service."

Sampson turned white. The veins corded at his temples. He appeared about
to burst into rage. He was at a loss for a quick reply.

Steele shook a long arm at the mayor.

"I need your help. You refuse. Now, I'll work alone. This man Snell
goes to Del Rio in irons."

George Wright rushed up to the table. The blood showed black and thick
in his face; his utterance was incoh