. But to this Jim Lough demurred. "We'll swing 'em where it
counts," he announced grimly, and the cavalcade set out on the
two-days' journey to the Skeel's cabin, the reputed hangout of the
lawless and criminals of the new country. The posse found the cabin
deserted, except for the presence of a lame, old man who was reported
as the cook for the outfit. He was loaded on a horse and headed
northward out of the country. The rest of the livestock was turned
from the corrals and the cabin and stables set afire. Then, as a
fitting finish to the work of the hour, the three culprits were hung
on extended limbs of trees bordering the ruins.

"Now the skunks will have something to look at when they come back
here to plan their stealing," Jim Lough had said as the posse
dispersed.

But "the skunks" never came back, and through the long winter and most
of the following summer the ghastly mementos of early justice swayed
and swung, until the ravens and winds made merciful disposition of the
bodies.

In the next few years there was peace in the grasslands, and the
settlers prospered as others joined. But it was not always so. For
with more settlers came greed and avarice. Laws were made, regulations
were had, rules announced and they were not always fair. Greed,
sometimes sat in the councils, and the avaricious bent the rules.
Then, there were other wars in which justice and fairness ran not
parallel with Greed-made law.

Grassland remembered young Jim Lough and his stern and speedy methods
and now as an older man, he was often called to council and to lead.

But the problems were not of easy solution; the 'right side' of the
controversy was not always obvious, but under Jim Lough's leadership
the greedy must surrender self-appropriated water holes, odious fences
were banished and grazing allotments went to the needy as well as the
greedy. In these things, Jim Lough made enemies as well as friends,
but cared as little for the one as he appreciated the other.

Landy Spencer, drummed knotty fingers on the arm of his chair as he
listened to Jim Lough's explanations of his arrangements for a
splendid funeral. At last he spoke. "Jim, I used to think that ye'd
make a fine gov'ner. I know ye make a dandy good district marshal,
but ye are slippin'--goin' addled 'bout this funeral business.
A-settin' here tryin' to run things en you deceased, that-a-way. Ye
know, well en' good, that the folks livin' will take charge of them
obsequies