strongly built,
easily guarded, and on the outskirts of the town. With iron grating over
the windows, the back door heavily spiked, and the front secured by
iron bars, any prisoner once locked within could probably be found when
wanted. On the occasion of Keith's arrival, the portion abutting upon
the street was occupied by a rather miscellaneous assembly--the drunk
and disorderly element conspicuous--who were awaiting their several
calls to appear before a local justice and make answer for various
misdeeds. Some were pacing the floor, others sat moodily on benches
ranged against the wall, while a few were still peacefully slumbering
upon the floor. It was a frowsy, disreputable crowd, evincing but mild
curiosity at the arrival of a new prisoner. Keith had barely time to
glance about, recognizing no familiarity of face amid the mass peering
at him, as he was hustled briskly forward and thrust into the rear room,
the heavy door closing behind him with the snap of a spring lock.

He was alone, with only the faintest murmur of voices coming to him
through the thick partition. It was a room some twelve feet square, open
to the roof, with bare walls, and containing no furniture except a rude
bench. Still dazed by the suddenness of his arrest, he sank down upon
the seat, leaned his head on his hands, and endeavored to think. It was
difficult to get the facts marshalled into any order or to comprehend
clearly the situation, yet little by little his brain grasped the main
details, and he awoke to a full realization of his condition, of the
forces he must war against. The actual murderers of those two men on the
trail had had their suspicions aroused by his actions; they believed
he guessed something of their foul deed, and had determined to clear
themselves by charging the crime directly against him. It was a shrewd
trick, and if they only stuck to their story, ought to succeed. He had
no evidence, other than his own word, and the marshal had already taken
from his pockets the papers belonging to the slain man. He had not found
the locket hidden under his shirt, yet a more thorough search would
doubtless reveal that also.

Even should the case come to trial, how would it be possible for him to
establish innocence, and--_would it ever come to trial?_ Keith knew the
character of the frontier, and of Carson City. The inclination of its
citizens in such cases was to act first, and reflect later. The law had
but slender hold, being