a gesture of appeal to
Sinclair.

Riley gritted his teeth. Suddenly a chill had passed through him at the
thought of the hanging noose biting into that frail, soft throat. "You
shut up till you're asked to talk," he said, frowning savagely. "I
think we got a witness here that'll prove that you _did_ have
sufficient cause to make you want to get rid of Quade. And, if we have
that proof, heaven help you. Montana, go get Sally Bent!"

Gaspar started up with a ring in his voice. "No, no!"

In response to a gesture from Sinclair, Denver Jim jerked the prisoner
back onto the black rock. With blazing blue eyes, Gaspar glared at the
judge, his delicate lips trembling with unspoken words.

Sinclair knew, with another strange falling of the heart, that the
prisoner was perfectly aware that his judge had not the slightest
suspicion of his guilt. An entente was established between them, an
entente which distressed Sinclair, and which he strove to destroy. But,
despite himself, he could not get rid of the knowledge that the great
blue eyes were fixed steadily upon him, as if begging him to see that
justice was done. Consequently, the judge made himself as impersonal as
possible.

9

Sally Bent came willingly, even eagerly. It was the eagerness of an
angry woman who wanted to talk.

"What is your name?"

"A name you'll come to wish you'd never heard," said the girl, "if any
harm comes to John Gaspar. Poor Jig, they won't _dare_ to touch a hair
of your head!"

With a gentle voice she had turned to Gaspar to speak these last words.
A faint smile came on the lips of Gaspar, and his gaze was far away, as
if he were in the midst of an unimportant dream, with Sally Bent the
last significant part of it all. The girl flushed and turned back to
Riley.

"I asked you your name," said his honor gravely.

"What right have you to ask me my name, or any other question?"

"Mr. Lodge," said his honor, "will you loosen up and tell this lady
where we come in?"

"Sure," said the judge, clearing his throat. "Sally, here's the point.
They ain't been much justice around here. We're simply giving the law a
helping hand. And we start in today on the skunk that shot Quade. Quade
may have had faults, but he was a man. And look at what done the
killing! Sally, I ask you to look! That bum excuse for a man! That
Gaspar!"

Following the command, Sally looked at Gaspar, the smile of pity and
sympathy trembling on her lips again. But Gasp