n your local press, the
authorities would _have_ to sit up, then--A'd go after your sheriff if
A had to tackle the coward by the scruff of his scurvy neck, A'd make
him ashamed . . . _not_ . . . to act."

"All right, Sir! Manage this thing . . . manage it just as you would
behind your hide-bound British laws! We'll pass the Senator's ranch in
ten minutes. You can telephone down to 'The Smelter City Herald.'
I'll get something ready to eat while you telephone. Then, we'll go
right along to the sheriff."

They kicked their ponies lightly into a trot and came to the Senator's
k'raal before the noon hour. Two or three of the ranch hands loitered
casually out to the road. All were in blue over-alls and shirt sleeves
but one; and he was in knickerbockers.

"That's the foreman, ask him!"

"'Twould oblige me t' have the use of your telephone?"

The man in the knickerbockers tilted his hat at a rakish angle, stuck a
tooth-pick in the corner of his mouth, put his thumbs in his jacket arm
holes, shot Wayland a quick look of questioning, grinned at the old man
and nodded towards a white pergola standing apart from the veranda of
the ranch house.

"Find it there," he indicated, "drop a nickel--then, ring!"

"Did you see that look?" gritted the old Britisher between his teeth,
as the fellow sauntered away with elaborate indifference.

"Yes, but looks don't go with a jury."

"Neck-tie was effective with the likes of him in my day!"

For the third time, Wayland uttered the same sardonic laugh. What was
happening to the old Britisher to change his point of view?

"I'll go on down to the River and prepare grub."

What Wayland was thinking, he did not say; but _what_ was passing in
the brain of the law-loving old Britisher that the rakish tilt of the
hat, the insolent angle of the tooth-pick, the spread of a man's thumbs
and feet--could break through hide-bound respect for law and elicit
reference to the court of the old-time neck-tie?

At the River, the Ranger loosened the saddle girths and put a small
kettle to boil above a fire of cottonwood chips and grass. Then he
took out his note book and wrote the note to Eleanor which he gave to
one of the road gang for Calamity. The note said: "We are setting out
on the Long Trail . . . the Long Trail this Nation will have to travel
before Democracy arrives . . . the trail of the Man behind the Thing
. . . the Man Higher Up." How did the Ranger know what was going on up