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He had come through it according to Rhetta Thayer's wish, according to his own desire, with no man's blood upon his hands. There were many willing ones who came forward to make light the labor of Seth Craddock's packing. They unbound his hands with derision and bundled him into the capacious long box against his strivings and curses with scorn. Morgan suggested the enclosure of a jug of water.

As these thoughts swept him in the few seconds of their passing, Morgan lay reserving his precious cartridges. The momentary suspension of his defense, the silence of his rifle's defiant roar, which had held them from closing in, perhaps led his assailants to believe him either dead or disabled.

Sarah Austin, complimented her on having written Pride and Prejudice. Another friend, Abraham Hayward, used to say that Lady Morgan had been transplanted to London too late, and that she was never free of the corporation of fine ladies, though she saw a good deal of them.

For on the morrow of his announcement Morgan disappeared and never returned. What happened to him is not certainly known. A body was found which may or may not have been his.

He picked T. Morgan Carey out of the corner, set him on his feet, dusted him off, gave him his hat and restored to him his gold pince-nez. The deputy needed no aid from Bob McGraw, but hastened to the protection of his sanctuary back of the counter. Bob stood looking at Carey, smiling his old bantering debonair smile. He waited until Carey had recovered his composure.

But after he had questioned Laskar and had felt that Laskar was not the accomplice of Dolver in the murder of Langan he had determined to go to the ranch, and had told Morgan of his determination. Now, sitting on the threshold of the Rancho Seco bunkhouse, he realized that his talk with Morgan had brought him here in a different rôle than he had anticipated.

"I've hurried here, Judge Maxwell, to do what I can in the name of justice and humanity," Morgan said. "That boy, Joe Newbolt, on trial here before you for the murder of old man Chase, is innocent. That boy is telling the truth, Judge, and I'll stake my neck on that. I've got a story to tell you that will clear up all he's holding back, and I'll tell it, if I swing for it!"

An old man who walked ahead of Morgan appeared to be the only unshaken and unconcerned person in this place of sleeping passions. He carried a thick hickory stick with immense crook, which he pegged down in time to his short steps, relying on it for support not at all, his lean old jaw chopping his cud as nimbly as a sheep's.

"He had to stand up like a man for what he was sworn to do, or run like a dog. Mr. Morgan wouldn't run. Right or wrong, he wouldn't run from any man!" "No," said Rhetta, sadly, "he wouldn't run." "You talk like you wanted him to!" "I don't think I would," said Rhetta. "Then what do you expect of a man?" impatiently. "If he stands up and fights he's either got to kill or be killed."

"Apparently we slipped up, Steve, letting this chap get out of the Academy so he could make a name for himself in the enlisted ranks." "Thank you, sir," replied Morgan, blushing with pride. "Have you seen the cadets, by any chance, Sergeant?" asked Strong. "They're both here on Titan with me." "Oh, yes, sir," said Morgan. "I saw them some time ago." "Where?"