hing or hang himself
on somebody's front door."

As town marshal Billy had a pretty accurate idea of the kind of trade
that the hotel bar attracted. There was a levity in Billy's voice and
a dancing light in Billy's eye. He could never take anything seriously
for any great length of time. However, old man Sears didn't like this
attitude of Billy's.

"It isn't only losing that fifteen-hundred-dollar license and losing
outside trade but we'd be robbing an honest and respectable man of his
livelihood," said Sears with his most ponderous air.

An unwilling, sheepish grin ruffled every man's face and Seth said with
a rasp:

"Well, Sears, I wouldn't lose any sleep worrying about that honest,
respectable man's livelihood if I were you. He owns a fine
seven-passenger car, some fancy driving horses, and that diamond pin he
wears week days in his tie would keep my meat bill paid for many and
many a day. No, I can't say that I'd let that make my conscience ache."

"What say if we all go over and ask him what he thinks of it. It looks
like rain and I'll have to be starting for home," suggested the bright
and peace-loving soul who had left home that morning to avoid
unpleasantness.

This brilliant suggestion was promptly acted on and they filed out,
leaving Billy standing alone in the doorway. Billy watched them
shuffle into the hotel, then he looked up and down Main Street,
studying every old landmark and battered hitching post. He told
himself that he hoped the old town wouldn't change too much. Hank
Lolly came out of the barn just then and Billy turned to him.

"Hank, that innocent little girl in a pink dress last night has sure
raised one gosh darned lot of argument in this here town."

"Billy," Hank's voice shook a little, "Billy, I heerd some of those
arguments--in there. But, my God, Billy--look at me--look at me! I'm
the best argument in this here town for voting that bar out. For,
Billy, so long as that hotel sells liquor, so long as the doors swing
open so that the smells can get out, and so long as the winds blow in
Green Valley, bringing those smells to me--just so long I'll be
afraid--afraid. And Billy, if ever I let go again, it'll be the
madhouse for me. I know. I've had a grandfather and two uncles go
that way."

Over at the hotel the high, foaming glasses slid along the bar. The
hotel man with the diamond in his tie greeted the men who lined up at
the rail with an indifferent smile. The