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Updated: June 1, 2025
And then, at the end of two weeks came a telegram from Judge Graney, saying merely: "Be patient. It's a long trail." Trevison got on Nigger and returned to the Diamond K. The six o'clock train arrived in Manti that evening with many passengers, among whom was a woman of twenty-eight at whom men turned to look the second time.
Then, hurriedly, he saddled and bridled two horses and led them to where Mary was waiting on the porch. Mounting, they rode fast toward Okar the little man's face working nervously, a great eagerness in his heart to help the man for whom he had conceived a deep affection. Banker Maison had made no mistake when he had told Sanderson that Judge Graney was honest. Graney looked honest.
"Who's the biggest an' most honest man in town?" he said, "the one man that the folks here always think of when they're in trouble an' want a square deal? Every town always has such a man. Who is he?" "Judge Graney," said Maison. "All right," declared Sanderson. "We'll go see Judge Graney. You're goin' to lead me to the place where he lives.
Judge Graney looked sharply at his visitor, and smiled. "You are evidently desperately harried. Sit down and tell me about your case." He waved to a chair and Trevison dropped into it, sitting on its edge. The Judge took another, and with the kerosene lamp between them on a table, Trevison related what had occurred during the previous morning in Manti.
"Yes," he returned, "I am the new owner. But how did you know it? I haven't told anyone here except Neil Norton and Judge Graney. Have Norton and the Judge been talking?" "They haven't talked to me," she assured him with a demure smile. "You see," she added, "you were a stranger in Dry Bottom, and after you left the Fashion you went right down to the court house.
Through some underground channel they had secured a deputyship for Dale, and upon him they depended for whatever law they needed to further their schemes. Judge Graney was fifty the age of experience. He knew something of men himself.
Of all that chanced in those seven days ere he set his face to the north again, not much has survived, for there were greater storms to come afterward, and more talked-of fighting. But certain things were done which had a sequel. By the fifth day Brian had swept past Gort toward Lough Graney, and turned west by Crusheen, which he passed through with a hundred horsemen at his heels.
Judge Graney had long known that the action of his government in sending him to Union County was an ironical surrender on the part of the government to the forces in the West which had been long demanding the Law. He had been sent here, presumably to enforce the law, but in reality to silence the government's critics. He was not expected to convict anyone.
He found nothing of that character. After a time he took up a pen and began to write. Long ago he had decided that in the first issue of the paper he would attack the Cattlemen's Association. Judge Graney had ridden out to the Circle Bar on the previous Saturday afternoon, remaining over Sunday, and accompanying Hollis on the return trip Monday morning.
Later, in Manti, he was sitting opposite Graney in a room in the hotel to which the Judge had gone. "H'm," said the latter, compressing his lips; "that's sharp practice. They are not wasting any time." "Was it legal?" "The law is elastic some judges stretch it more than others. A search-warrant and a writ of attachment probably did the business in this case.
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