“Yes?” said Yancy.

“Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody.  Hues has him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is going to be able to hold him is another matter!”

Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led the way from the house.  The Scratch Hiller looked about him.  Across the street a group of men, the greater number of whom were armed, stood in front of Pegloe’s tavern.  Glancing in the direction of the court-house, he observed that the square before it held other groups.  But what impressed him more was the ominous silence that was everywhere.  At his elbow the judge was breathing deep.

“We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy.  Court was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public prosecutor have left town, and as you see, Murrell’s friends have gathered for a rescue.  There’s a sprinkling of the better element—­but only a sprinkling.  I saw judge Morrow this morning at four o’clock—­I told him I would obligate myself to present for his consideration evidence of a striking and sensational character, evidence which would show conclusively that Murrell should be held to await the action of the next grand jury—­this was after a conference with Hues—­I guaranteed his safety.  Sir, the man refused to listen to me!  He showed himself utterly devoid of any feeling of public duty.”  The bitter sense of failure and futility was leaving the judge.  The situation made its demands on that basic faith in his own powers which remained imbedded in his character.

They had entered the court-house square.  ’On the steps of the building Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the doorway, rifle in hand.

“Maybe you don’t know this is county property?” the sheriff was saying.  “And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for an unlawful purpose?  I am going to open them doors-a passel of strangers can’t keep folks out of a building their own money has bought and paid for!” While he was speaking, the judge had pushed his way through the crowd to the foot of the steps.

“That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts,” observed the judge.  He smiled widely and sweetly.  The sheriff gave him a hostile glare.  “Do you know that Morrow has left town?” the judge went on.

“I ain’t got nothing to do with judge Morrow.  It’s my duty to see that this building is ready for him when he’s a mind to open court in it”

“You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open these doors?” inquired the judge affably.

“I shorely am,” said Betts.  “Why, some of these folks are our leading people!”