nd set teeth, that the other should not be allowed to
thwart justice, if the streets of Las Plumas had to be paved with dead
men.

Judge Harlin sent word to Mead's ranch, asking Nick Ellhorn to come
into town as soon as possible, and telegraphed to Tom Tuttle at Santa
Fe to return to Las Plumas at once. But it happened that Tom was
chasing an escaped criminal in the Gran Quivera country, far from
railroads and telegraphs, and that Nick was out on the range and did
not receive the message until nearly a week later.

Nick had settled the matter of the Chinaman's queue on his last visit
to Las Plumas, two weeks before, but not to his entire satisfaction.
Judge Harlin had refused to conduct his suit for the recovery of the
queue against Harry Gillam, the district attorney, and Nick had
declared that he would be his own lawyer and get that "scalp," if it
"took till he was gray headed." Secretly, he was glad that Judge
Harlin would not take the case, because he had an active animosity
against Harry Gillam, mainly because Gillam wore a silk hat, and he
thought that, as his own lawyer, he could contrive to cast enough
ridicule on the district attorney to set the whole town laughing and
make Gillam so angry that he would lose his temper and want to fight.
So he set about preparing his case, with advice and suggestion from
Judge Harlin, who, while he did not wish to be openly connected with
the matter, was very willing to see Gillam, who was a Republican and
the judge's chief professional rival, made a laughing stock and
brought to grief. And he knew that the case, with Nick Ellhorn at the
helm, would be the funniest thing that had happened in Las Plumas for
many a day. Ellhorn's plans began to be whispered about. Presently the
whole town was chuckling and smiling in anticipation of the fun there
would be at the trial. Gillam fidgeted in nervous apprehension for
several days; then he put the pig tail in his pocket, hunted up
Ellhorn and invited him to have a drink. As they drained their glasses
he exclaimed:

"Oh, by the way, Nick, are you really in earnest about that fool suit
you've filed against me?"

"You mean about my Chiny pigtail?" asked Ellhorn.

"About the Chinaman's queue, yes."

"You bet I am. That blamed thing's cost me a whole heap more'n it's
worth to anybody except me and the Chinaman. I reckon he's sold it to
me for that five hundred dollars. It's mine, and I mean to have it. I
sure reckon I naturalized on