pony
out at the stable.

"I'll do it--for you," Levins told him. And then he chuckled. "It'll seem
like old times."

"It's Justice versus Law, tonight," laughed Trevison; "it's a case of 'the
end justifying the means.'"

Manti never slept. At two o'clock in the morning the lights in the
gambling rooms of the _Belmont_ and the _Plaza_ were still flickering
streams out into the desert night; weak strains of discord were being
drummed out of a piano in a dance hall; the shuffling of feet smote the
dead, flat silence of the night with an odd, weird resonance. Here and
there a light burned in a dwelling or store, or shone through the wall of
a tent-house. But Manti's one street was deserted--the only peace that
Manti ever knew, had descended.

Two men who had dismounted at the edge of town had hitched their horses in
the shadow of a wagon shed in the rear of a store building, and were
making their way cautiously down the railroad tracks toward the center of
town. They kept in the shadows of the buildings as much as possible--for
space was valuable now and many buildings nuzzled the railroad tracks; but
when once they were forced to pass through a light from a window their
faces were revealed in it for an instant--set, grim and determined.

"We've got to move quickly," said one of the men as they neared the
courthouse; "it will be daylight soon. Damn a town that never sleeps!"

The other laughed lowly. "I've said the same thing, often," he whispered.
"Easy now--here we are!"

They paused in the shadow of the building and whispered together briefly.
A sound reached their ears as they stood. Peering around the corner
nearest them they saw the bulk of a man appear. He walked almost to the
corner of the building where they crouched, and they held their breath,
tensing their muscles. Just when it seemed they must be discovered, the
man wheeled, walked away, and vanished into the darkness toward the other
side of the building. Presently he returned, and repeated the maneuver. As
he vanished the second time, the larger man of the two in wait, whispered
to the other:

"He's the sentry! Stand where you are--I'll show Corrigan--"

The words were cut short by the reappearance of the sentry. He came close
to the corner, and wheeled, to return. A lithe black shape leaped like a
huge cat, and landed heavily on the sentry's shoulders, bringing a pained
grunt from him. The grunt died in a gurgle as iron fingers closed on his
throa