n coming melted his
heart.

He gripped their hands, but found himself unable to say anything in
answer to their greetings. He was afraid to trust his voice, and he
was ashamed of his emotion.

"The boys are for you strong, Dave. We all figure you done right. Steve
he says he wouldn't worry none if you'd got Miller too," Bob breezed on.

"Tha's no way to talk, son," reproved Crawford. "It's bad enough right
as it is without you boys wantin' it any worse. But don't you get
downhearted, Dave. We're allowin' to stand by you to a finish. It ain't
as if you'd got a good man. Doble was a mean-hearted scoundrel if ever
I met up with one. He's no loss to society. We're goin' to show the jury
that too."

They did. By the time Crawford, Hart, and a pair of victims who had been
trapped by the sharpers had testified about Miller and Doble, these
worthies had no shred of reputation left with the jury. It was shown
that they had robbed the defendant of the horse he had trained and that
he had gone to a lawyer and found no legal redress within his means.

But Dave was unable to prove self-defense. Miller stuck doggedly to his
story. The cowpuncher had fired the first shot. He had continued to fire,
though he must have seen Doble sink to the ground immediately. Moreover,
the testimony of the doctor showed that the fatal shot had taken effect
at close range.

Just prior to this time there had been an unusual number of killings in
Denver. The newspapers had stirred up a public sentiment for stricter
enforcement of law. They had claimed that both judges and juries were too
easy on the gunmen who committed these crimes. Now they asked if this
cowboy killer was going to be allowed to escape. Dave was tried when this
wave of feeling was at its height and he was a victim of it.

The jury found him guilty of murder in the second degree. The judge
sentenced him to ten years in the penitentiary.

When Bob Hart came to say good-bye before Dave was removed to Canon City,
the young range-rider almost broke down. He was greatly distressed at the
misfortune that had befallen his friend.

"We're gonna stay with this, Dave. You know Crawford. He goes through
when he starts. Soon as there's a chance we'll hit the Governor for a
pardon. It's a damn shame, old pal. Tha's what it is."

Dave nodded. A lump in his throat interfered with speech.

"The ol' man lent me money to buy Chiquito, and I'm gonna keep the pinto
till you get out. That'll hel