ir-cut, Forrest and I fought
shy of public places. But after the supplies were settled for, and some
new clothing was secured, we chambered a few drinks and swaggered about
with considerable ado. My bill of supplies amounted to one hundred and
twenty-six dollars, and when, without a word, I drew a draft for the
amount, the proprietor of the outfitting store, as a pelon, made me a
present of two fine silk handkerchiefs.

Forrest was treated likewise, and having invested ourselves in white
shirts, with flaming red ties, we used the new handkerchiefs to
otherwise decorate our persons. We had both chosen the brightest colors,
and with these knotted about our necks, dangling from pistol-pockets,
or protruding from ruffled shirt fronts, our own mothers would scarcely
have known us. Jim Flood, whom we met casually on a back street,
stopped, and after circling us once, said, "Now if you fellows just keep
perfectly sober, your disguise will be complete."

Meanwhile Don Lovell had reported at an early hour to the sheriff's
office. The legal profession was represented in Ogalalla by several
firms, criminal practice being their specialty; but fortunately Mike
Sutton, an attorney of Dodge, had arrived in town the day before on a
legal errand for another trail drover. Sutton was a frontier advocate,
alike popular with the Texas element and the gambling fraternity, having
achieved laurels in his home town as a criminal lawyer. Mike was born on
the little green isle beyond the sea, and, gifted with the Celtic wit,
was also in logic clear as the tones of a bell, while his insight into
human motives was almost superhuman. Lovell had had occasion in other
years to rely on Sutton's counsel, and now would listen to no refusal of
his services. As it turned out, the lawyer's mission in Ogalalla was
so closely in sympathy with Lovell's trouble that they naturally
strengthened each other. The highest tribunal of justice in Ogalalla was
the county court, the judge of which also ran the stock-yards during
the shipping season, and was banker for two monte games at the Lone Star
saloon. He enjoyed the reputation of being an honest, fearless jurist,
and supported by a growing civic pride, his decisions gave satisfaction.
A sense of crude equity governed his rulings, and as one of the citizens
remarked, "Whatever the judge said, went." It should be remembered that
this was in '84, but had a similar trouble occurred five years earlier,
it is likely t