phy of that day when Morgan lassoed the meat hunter, were in her
hands, and in her eyes there was a death warrant for any wretch that
stood in her way. She gave the weapons to Morgan, her breathing audible
over the hush that fell in the failing of their cowed hearts.

"Drop your guns!" Morgan commanded.

There was a panic to comply. Steel and nickel, ivory handle, old navy
and new Colt's, flashed in the sun as they were dropped in the little
open space at Morgan's feet.

"Clear out of here!"

Morgan's sharp order was almost unnecessary. Those on the edge of the
crowd were beginning already to sneak off; a little way, looking back
over shoulders, and they began to run. They dispersed like dust on the
wind, leaving behind them their weapons which would identify them for
the revenge this terrible, invincible, miraculously lucky man might come
to their doors and exact.

The thought was terrifying. They did not stop at the margin of the
square to look back to see if he pressed his vengeance at their heels.
Only the shelter of cyclone cellar, sequestered patches of corn, the
willows along the distant river, would give them the respite from the
terror of this outreaching hand necessary to a full, free breath.

The sheriff had released himself from jail, with Judge Thayer and the
valorous Riley Caldwell, and twenty or more others who had been locked
up with them. The sheriff, humiliated, resentful, red with the anger
that choked him--for it was safe now to be as angry as he could lash
himself--came stalking up to where Morgan held Craddock and the
unwounded raider off from the tempting heap of weapons thrown down by
the mob. The sheriff began to abuse Craddock, laying to him all the
villainy of ancestry and life that his well-schooled tongue could shape.
Morgan cut him off with a sharp word.

"Take these men and lock them up!"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Morgan, you bet your life I'll lock 'em up!" the sheriff
agreed.

"Hold them for a charge of arson and murder," Judge Thayer commanded
sternly. "And see that you _do_ hold them!"

Judge Thayer came on to where Morgan stood, the surrendered weapons at
his feet, Rhetta beside him, pride higher than the heavens in her eyes.

"I can't apologize for them, I can't even try," said the judge, with a
humility in his word and manner quite new and strange, indicating the
members of the fast-scattering mob. He made himself as small as he felt
by his way of approaching this man who had pit