ed itself
into the night, leaving the oily young man at his post of duty gazing
fearfully at the purple face of Judge Fulsom, who stood staring, as
if stupefied, at the overturned chairs, the broken glasses and the
empty darkness outside.

"Say, Jedge, them boys was sure some excited," ventured the bartender
timidly. "You don't s'pose--"

The big man put himself slowly into motion.

"I'll get th' constable," he growled. "I--I'll run 'em in; and I'll
give Lute Parsons the full extent of the law, if it's the last thing
I do on earth. I--I'll teach them!--I'll give them all they're
lookin' for."

And he, too, went out, leaving the door swinging in the cold wind.

At the corner, still meditating vengeance for this affront to his
dignity, Judge Fulsom almost collided with the hurrying figure of a
man approaching in the opposite direction.

"Hello!" he challenged sharply. "Where you goin' so fast, my friend?"

"Evening, Judge," responded the man, giving the other a wide margin.

"Oh, it's Jim Dodge--eh? Say, Jim, did you meet any of the boys on
the road?"

"What boys?"

"Why, we got into a little discussion over to the Brookville House
about this Andrew Bolton business--his coming back unexpected, you
know; and some of the boys seemed to think they hadn't got all that
was coming to them by rights. Lute Parsons he gets kind of worked up
after about three or four glasses, and he sicked the boys onto going
out there, and--"

"Going out--where? In the name of Heaven, what do you mean, Judge?"

"I told 'em to keep cool and-- Say, don't be in a hurry, Jim. I had
an awful good mind to call out Hank Simonson to run a few of 'em in.
But I dunno as the boys'll do any real harm. They wouldn't dare. They
know _me_, and they know--"

"Do you mean that drunken mob was headed for Bolton House? Why, Good
Lord, man, she's there practically alone!"

"Well, perhaps you'd better see if you can get some help," began the
Judge, whose easy-going disposition was already balking at effort.

But Jim Dodge, shouting back a few trenchant directions, had already
disappeared, running at top speed.

There was a short cut to Bolton House, across plowed fields and
through a patch of woodland. Jim Dodge ran all the way, wading a
brook, swollen with the recent rains, tearing his way through
thickets of brush and bramble, the twinkling lights in the top story
of the distant house leading him on. Once he paused for an instant,
thinking he h