knock-out blow to the toughs. Sometimes one man is
as good as a hundred. Come on to the Courthouse with me," he continued
cheerfully. "We'll fix the whole thing. All the special constables are
waiting there with the regular police. An extra foot on a captain's
shoulders is as good as a battery of guns."

"You're sure it's according to Hoyle?" asked Jowett quizzically.

He was so delighted that he felt he must "make the Mayor show off self,"
as he put it afterwards. He did not miscalculate; the Mayor rose to his
challenge.

"I'm boss of this show," he said, "and I can go it alone if necessary
when the town's in danger and the law's being hustled. I've had a
meeting of the Council and I've got the sailing-orders I want. I'm boss
of the place, and Mr. Druse is my--" he stopped, because there was a
look in the eyes of the Ry which demanded consideration--"And Mr. Druse
is lawboss," he added.

The old ineradicable look of command shone in the eyes of Gabriel Druse.
Leadership was written all over him. Power spoke in every motion. The
square, unbowed shoulders, the heavily lined face, with the patriarchal
beard, the gnarled hands, the rough-hewn limbs, the eye of bright,
brooding force proclaimed authority.

Indeed in that moment there came into the face of the old Nomad the look
it had not worn for many a day. The self-exiled ruler had paid a heavy
price for his daughter's vow, though he had never acknowledged it to
himself. His self-ordained impotency, in a camp that was never moved,
within walls which never rose with the sunset and fell with the morning;
where his feet trod the same roadway day after day; where no man asked
for justice or sought his counsel or fell back on his protection; where
he drank from the same spring and tethered his horse in the same paddock
from morn to morn: all these things had eaten at his heart and bowed his
spirit in spite of himself.

He was not now of the Romany world, and he was not of the Gorgio world;
but here at last was the old thing come back to him in a new way, and
his bones rejoiced. He would entitle his daughter to her place among the
Gorgios. Perhaps also it would be given him, in the name of the law, to
deal with a man he hated.

"We've got Mister Marchand now," said Jowett softly to the old
chieftain.

The Ry's eyes lighted and his jaw set. He did not speak, but his hands
clenched, opened and clenched again. Jowett saw and grinned.

"The Mayor and the law-boss'll wi