xplained to me, he is entirely within his rights, having
secured the title to the land from Mr. Marchmont, representing the
Midland. You have no record of any transfers from the Midland to the
present claimants or their predecessors, have you? There is no such
record?"

The Judge saw Corrigan's amused grin, and surmised that J. C. was merely
playing with him.

"No," he said, with some bitterness.

"Then of course you are going to stand with Mr. Corrigan against the
present claimants?"

"I presume so."

"H'm," said J. C. "If there is any doubt about it, perhaps I had better
remind you--"

The Judge groaned in agony of spirit. "It won't be necessary to remind
me."

"So I thought. Well, gentlemen--" J. C. arose "--that will be all for this
evening."

Thus he dismissed the Judge, who went to his cot behind a partition in the
courthouse, while Corrigan and J. C. stepped outside and walked slowly
toward the private car. They lingered at the steps, and presently J. C.
called and a negro came out with two chairs. J. C. and Corrigan draped
themselves in the chairs and smoked. Dusk was settling over Manti; lights
appeared in the windows of the buildings; a medley of noises reached the
ears of the two men. By day Manti was lively enough, by night it was a
maelstrom of frenzied action. A hundred cow-ponies were hitched to rails
that skirted the street in front of store and saloon; cowboys from
ranches, distant and near, rollicked from building to building, touching
elbows with men less picturesquely garbed; the strains of crude music
smote the flat, dead desert air; yells, shouts, laughter filtered through
the bedlam; an engine, attached to a train of cars on the main track near
the private car, wheezed steam in preparation for its eastward trip, soon
to begin.

Benham had solemn thoughts, sitting there, watching.

"That crowd wouldn't have much respect for law. They're living at such a
pitch that they'd lose their senses entirely if any sudden crisis should
arise. I'd feel my way carefully, Corrigan--if I were you."

Corrigan laughed deeply. "Don't lose any sleep over it. There are fifty
deputy marshals in that crowd--and they're heeled. The rear room in the
bank building is a young arsenal."

Benham started. "How on earth--" he began.

"Law and order," smiled Corrigan. "A telegram did it. The territory wants
a reputation for safety."

"By the way," said Benham, after a silence; "I _had_ to take that Trevison
a