And, with all the persistence
of a venomous nature, he shouted his denunciation, until at last his
arguments gained credence, and his charges found echo in the deep
throats of men who originally had little or nothing to say in the
matter.

The meeting was in full swing, tempers were roused in proportion to
the arguments flung about at haphazard, and the quantities of liquor
consumed in the process of the debate. At first the centre of the
floor had been kept clear for the speakers, and the audience was lined
up around the walls, but as the discussion warmed there was less
order, and Doc Crombie, in spite of his sternest language, was
powerless to keep the judicial atmosphere necessary to treat the
matter in a dignified manner. Smallbones kept up a fiery run of
comment and spleenful argument on every individual who backed the
doctor in his demand for moderation. He ridiculed, he cursed, he
showered personal abuse, until he had everybody by the ears, and by
the sheer power of his venom herded the majority to side with him.

One of the men he could not influence was Peter Blunt. He did his
utmost to provoke the big man to a personal attack upon himself that
he might turn loose personalities against him, and charge him with
complicity in some of Jim's doings, however absurdly untrue they might
be. He had all a demagogue's gift for carrying an audience with him.
He never failed to seize upon an opportunity to launch a poisonous
shaft, or sneer at the class to which Jim and such men as Peter
belonged. Before he left that saloon he meant to obtain a verdict
against his man.

Doc Crombie's anger was hot against the hardware dealer. He meant
ruling against him in the end, but he was not quite sure how that
ruling would be generally received. He was now listening to a final
appeal from Peter in the hopes of gleaning something that might help
him when he finally set his foot on the neck of Smallbones' charges.

"See here, fellers," Peter said, with a quiet directness of manner,
but in a voice that rose above the hum of general talk, and at once
silenced it, "you've heard a whole heap of 'tosh' from Smallbones and
his gang. I tell you that feller's got a mind as big as a pea, and
with just about as much wind in it. You've heard him accuse Jim Thorpe
of cattle stealing on evidence which we all know, and which wouldn't
convince a kid of ten, by reason of its absurd simplicity. Do I need
to ask sensible men such as you if any san