rom these turned to enthusiastic
commendation of the man who had restored to him his lost child.
"Among all the brave and noble men of this favored region," he
exclaimed, "there is none braver, nobler, greater-hearted, more
chivalrous, than he who has this day proved himself worthy of all our
praises--Emerson Mead!" The crowd cheered loudly and called for Mead.
Somebody shouted, "Three cheers for Emerson!" and the whole
assemblage, Pierre leading, waved their hats and cheered again and
again.

Then there arose a general cry for "Emerson Mead! Emerson Mead!"
"Where is Emerson!" "Bring him out, Frenchy!" and Delarue rushed back
into the house to find him. When Pierre entered the room which his
daughter had just left it occurred to him, vaguely, that Mead looked
unusually proud and happy, but as he himself, also, felt happy and
proud, and filled with a genial glow over the success of his burst of
oratory, it seemed quite proper that every one else should also be
elated. So he thought nothing of it and hurried Mead out to the
waiting crowd, where everybody, Democrats and Republicans alike,
gathered about him and shook hands and made terse, complimentary
remarks, until Jim Halliday presently took him away to his former
quarters.

The crowd trailed off down Main street, and Judge Harlin and Colonel
Whittaker stood treat together for the entire company, first at the
White Horse and then at the Palmleaf saloon. The whistle of the train
from the south, two hours late, broke in upon all this friendliness
with a harsh reminder. Men suddenly recalled the fact that the mail
from the north had come in long ago and had not brought the court
order for which they had been waiting. The issues which had set the
town at gun muzzles the day before again asserted themselves, and
gradually the two factions began to mass, each on its own side of the
street. In the midst of this the clerk of the court came out of the
post-office with the missing order, which had gone astray in the mails
and had just come in on the train from El Paso. Neither Joe Davis nor
John Daniels could be found, and it was an hour later when they rode
together into the town, coming back from the hanging of Antone
Colorow.

Daniels read the official paper through and handed it to Davis. "Well,
Joe," he said, "the court says you are sheriff now, and I reckon
there's no goin' back of that. I hope the office will bring you better
luck than it has me. Let's have a drink."