“Generally speakin’—­we sure have,” said Wingle.  “But I reckon you lost.”

Corliss nodded.

CHAPTER XXVII

“JUST ME AND HER”

Sheriff Banks tossed Corliss’s note on his desk, reached in his pocket and drew forth a jack-knife with which he began to trim his finger-nails.  He paid no apparent attention to the arrival of one of his deputies, but proceeded with his manipulation of the knife.  The deputy sidled to a chair and sat watching the sheriff.

Presently Banks closed his knife, slid it into his pocket, and leaned back in his chair.  “Lone Johnny gone back?” he queried.

The deputy nodded.

Banks proffered his companion a cigar and lit one himself.  For a while he smoked and gazed at the ceiling.  “I got two cards to play,” he said, straightening up and brushing cigar-ash from his vest.  “Last election was pretty close.  By rights I ought to be at the county-seat.  Got any idea why they side-tracked me here in Antelope?”

The deputy grinned.  “It’s right handy to the line.  And I guess they saw what was comin’ and figured to put you up against it.  They couldn’t beat you at the polls, so they tried to put you where you wouldn’t come back.”

“Correct.  And there’s no use running against the rope.  Now I want you to call on every citizen in Antelope and tell every dog-goned one of ’em what Lone Johnny kind of hinted at regarding the Concho and Loring.  And show ’em this note from Jack.  Tell ’em I’m going to swear in each of ’em as a special.  I want to go on record as having done what I could.”

The deputy rose.  “All right, Jim.  Kind of late to make that move, ain’t it?”

“I got another card,” said the sheriff.  “Tell ’em we’ll be ready to start about twelve.  It’s ten, now.”

With the departure of the deputy the sheriff reached in his desk and brought forth a book.  It was thumbed and soiled.  He turned the pages slowly, pausing to read a line here and there.  Finally he settled back and became immersed in the perennial delight of “Huckleberry Finn.”  He read uninterruptedly for an hour, drifting on the broad current of the Mississippi to eventually disembark in Antelope as the deputy shadowed the doorway.  The sheriff closed the book and glanced up.  He read his answer in the deputy’s eyes.

“’T ain’t that they don’t like you,” said the deputy.  “But they ain’t one of ’em that’ll do anything for Loring or do anything against Jack Corliss.”

The sheriff smiled.  “Public opinion is setting on the fence and hanging on with both hands.  All right, Joe.  I’ll play her alone.  I got a wire from Hank that he’s got the herder, Fernando.  Due here on the two-thirty.  You hang around and tell Hank to keep on—­take the Mexican along up to Usher.”

“Goin’ to go after the Concho boys and Loring’s herders?”