e what he is to do.
But what Mistair Wade says, it is true a little--or it might seem
true to estrangers. For us in Hillsboro, frien's togethair, eet
does not mattair; we know. But because the worl' ees full of
estrangers--theenk, Judge Hinkle, eef it is not bes' that it ees not a
great frien' of the preesoner who is to examine that horse--what? That
no estranger may have some doubts? There are so many estrangers."

"Humph! There is something in that." The justice scratched his ear.
"Very well. George Scarboro, stand up. Are you acquainted with this
prisoner?"

"No, sir."

"You are one of the Arizona Rangers?"

"I am."

"Slip your saddle on that blue horse. You know what you have to do?"

"Yes, sir."

Scarboro departed, and half the court room went with him. Five minutes
later he rode the Twilight horse, prancing daintily, under the
courthouse windows. The windows were lined with faces. Johnny, the
judge and Wade had a window to themselves, within the sacred railing.
But Spinal Maginnis did not look from any window. Spinal was looking
elsewhere--at Caney, Weir and Hales.

The ranger wore a loose and sagging belt; his gun swung low on his
thigh, just at the reach of his extended arm. As he came abreast of
the destined box Scarboro's arm flashed down and up. So did Twilight.

A pistol shot, a long blue streak, and a squeal of anguish ascended
together, hopelessly mingled and indiscriminate, spurning the spinning
earth. It launched toward outer space in a complex of motion upward,
sidewise, forward and inside out, shaming the orbit of the moon,
nodes, perturbations, apsides, syzygies and other symptoms too
luminous to mention; but perhaps apogee and acceleration were the most
prominent. A clatter, a pitch, an agonized bawl, a sailing hat, a dust
cloud, a desperate face above it, with streaming hair; the marvel fell
away down the hill and left a stunned silence behind. And presently a
gun came down.

"Do you want to cross-examine the witness?" inquired Johnny.

Wade threw up his hands.

"Well!" he said. "Well!" His jaw dropped. He drew Johnny aside and
whispered, "See here, damn you--did you kill that man?"

"No, I didn't," whispered Johnny. "But you keep it dark. It's a dead
secret."

The roaring crowd came in with laughter and shouts. As they found
seats and the tumult quieted Johnny addressed the judge.

"Shall I take the stand now, Your Honor, or wait till after dinner?
It's late, I know--but you'd