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r of other things we'll have to dispense with." "We'll pull through by some means," Edgar rejoined encouragingly, and George got up. "I feel rather worn out," he said. "I think I'll go to sleep." He walked wearily from the room, crumpling up the letters he had risked his life to secure. CHAPTER XXI GRANT COMES TO THE RESCUE The storm had raged for twenty-four hours, but it had now passed, and it was a calm night when a little party sat in George's living-room. Outside, the white prairie lay still and silent under the Arctic frost, but there was no breath of wind stirring and the room was comfortably warm. A big stove glowed in the middle of it, and the atmosphere was permeated with the smell of hot iron, stale tobacco, and the exudations from resinous boards. Grant and his daughter had called when driving back from a distant farm, and Trooper Flett had returned to the homestead after a futile search for the liquor smugglers. He was not characterized by mental brilliancy, but his persevering patience atoned for that, and his superior officers considered him a sound and useful man. Sitting lazily in an easy chair after a long day's ride in the nipping frost, he discoursed upon the situation. "Things aren't looking good," he said. "We've had two cases of cattle-killing in the last month, besides some horses missing, and a railroad contractor knocked senseless with an empty bottle; and nobody's locked up yet." "I don't think you have any reason to be proud of it," Edgar broke in. Flett spread out his hands in expostulation. "It's not our fault. I could put my hands on half a dozen men who're at the bottom of the trouble; but what would be the use of that, when the blamed jury would certainly let them off? In a case of this kind, our system of justice is mighty apt to break down. It's a pet idea of mine." "How would you propose to alter it?" Edgar asked, to lead him on. "If we must have a jury, I'd like to pick them, and they'd be men who'd lost some stock. You could depend on them." "There's something to be said for that," Grant admitted with a dry smile. "This is how we're fixed," Flett went on. "We're up against a small, but mighty smart, hard crowd; we know them all right, but we can't get after them. You must make good all you say in court, and we can't get folks to help us. They'd rather mind the store, have a game of pool, or chop their cordwood." "I can think of
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