different color," he said grimly.

Salomy Jane put down her knife and fork. This was certainly a new and
different phase of the situation. She had never thought of it before,
and, strangely enough, for the first time she became interested in the
man. "Got away?" she repeated. "Did they let him off?"

"Not much," said her father briefly. "Slipped his cords, and going
down the grade pulled up short, just like a _vaquero_ agin a
lassoed bull, almost draggin' the man leadin' him off his hoss, and
then skyuted up the grade. For that matter, on that hoss o' Judge
Boompointer's he mout have dragged the whole posse of 'em down on
their knees ef he liked! Sarved 'em right, too. Instead of stringin'
him up afore the door, or shootin' him on sight, they must allow to
take him down afore the hull committee 'for an example.' 'Example' be
blowed! Ther' 's example enough when some stranger comes unbeknownst
slap onter a man hanged to a tree and plugged full of holes. _That's_
an example, and _he_ knows what it means. Wot more do ye want? But
then those Vigilantes is allus clingin' and hangin' onter some mere
scrap o'the law they're pretendin' to despise. It makes me sick! Why,
when Jake Myers shot your ole Aunt Viney's second husband, and I laid
in wait for Jake afterwards in the Butternut Hollow, did _I_ tie him
to his hoss and fetch him down to your Aunt Viney's cabin 'for an
example' before I plugged him? No!" in deep disgust. "No! Why, I just
meandered through the wood, careless-like, till he comes out, and I
just rode up to him, and I said"--

But Salomy Jane had heard her father's story before. Even one's
dearest relatives are apt to become tiresome in narration. "I know,
dad," she interrupted; "but this yer man,--this hoss-thief,--did _he_
get clean away without gettin' hurt at all?"

"He did, and unless he's fool enough to sell the hoss he kin keep
away, too. So ye see, ye can't ladle out purp stuff about a 'dyin'
stranger' to Rube. He won't swaller it."

"All the same, dad," returned the girl cheerfully, "I reckon to say
it, and say _more_; I'll tell him that ef _he_ manages to get away
too, I'll marry him--there! But ye don't ketch Rube takin' any such
risks in gettin' ketched, or in gettin' away arter!"

Madison Clay smiled grimly, pushed back his chair, rose, dropped a
perfunctory kiss on his daughter's hair, and, taking his shotgun from
the corner, departed on a peaceful Samaritan mission to a cow who
had dropped