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And you think that any man who uses a gun on another is a coward?" He laughed sardonically. "Well, all I've got to say to you is that you ain't got your eye-teeth cut yet." He deliberately turned his back on Hollis and the others and walked to the door. On the threshold he halted, looking back at them all with a sneering smile. "You know where I live," he said to Judge Graney.
Give me warrants for the three of them Dale, Maison, and Silverthorn, and I'll run them in before they get a chance to hand Sanderson anything!" Judge Graney called the busy clerk and gave him brief instructions. As the latter started toward his desk there was a sound at the door, and Barney Owen came in, breathing heavily.
Except for the cowponies and the buckboard and the prairie schooner there was a total absence of life or movement, offering a striking contrast to the bustling cities to which the young man had been accustomed. He walked rapidly down the board walk, entered the courthouse, and paused before a door upon which appeared the legend: "United States District Court. J. Blackstone Graney."
These impressions are considered Druidic, and are pointed out as such to the curious stranger by the guides. Near an old church situated on the southern slope of Knockpatrick, in the parish of Graney in Leinster, there is a large flat granite rock with the impression of two feet clearly defined on its surface. Local tradition assigns these footprints to St.
A significant glance passed between him and Norton, but the latter laughed grimly. "I reckon he's opened the ball, right off the reel," he suggested. Judge Graney drew a deep breath. "Yes," he returned. "I suppose that way is as good as any other. It was bound to come anyway. It will be war to the finish now!"
He showed her the document written and signed by Maison, and attested by Judge Graney: This is to certify that I have tonight paid to Deal Sanderson the sum of ninety thousand dollars for three thousand head of cattle received to my full satisfaction. "There ain't no comeback to that!" exulted Sanderson. "Now we'll start buildin' that dam.
Half an hour later after having arranged with Judge Graney for the registering of his brand and the listing of his cattle, Hollis left the court house and went to his office. In running through his mail he came upon Judge Graney's notification and also another letter, postmarked "Chicago," which drew a pleased smile to his face.
Wrecks, disasters, were certain. They came turmoil engulfed them. Which is to say that during the two weeks that had elapsed since the departure of Judge Graney for Washington, Manti had paid very little attention to "Brand" Trevison while he haunted the telegraph station and the post-office for news.
"Graney gave notice of appeal," protested the Judge. "Which the Circuit Court denied." "He'll go to Washington," persisted the Judge, gulping. "I can't legally do it." Corrigan laughed. "Appoint a receiver to operate the mine, pending the Supreme Court decision. Appoint Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. There is no record or deed."
Yet there was a certain gleam in his eyes that gave the lie to this impression, a gleam that warned of an active, analytical mind. Judicial dignity lurked all over him. The young man bowed respectfully. "Are you Judge Graney?" he questioned. The judge nodded and the young man smiled slightly. "I am Kent Hollis," he said.
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