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Updated: May 12, 2025
But they are not all the officers of this County. Where and who is your Superior Judge?" "Poor ol' Ben Garland. Weaker'n skim milk. Scared to say his soul's his own." There was infinite scorn in her voice. "No, it's Steptoe Service, or nothin'." Kenset thought a moment. "Who's the Coroner?" he asked presently. "Jim Banner," she answered quickly, "as straight a man as ever lived. Brave, too.
Ye thought my Pappy war the last of his line, jest as you're the last of yourn!" Her laugh now became quite uncontrollable, but between gasps she still fired taunts at him. "Didn't reckon yo' god Natur' could raise some-un weaker'n ye ter crush ye out! Didn't reckin hit war likely the last Dawson 'd be fetched down by the last Whitly 'n' her a gal!" As she descended to this, he arose.
"He cert'n'y is weaker'n stump-water," she murmured, as she turned her horse's head; "but he's sickly an' consumpted, an' he's jest about the age my Bud would of been if he'd lived." And thinking of her first-born and only son, who died in babyhood, she rode homeward in the dim chill starlight. Tobe, spent and foot-sore, followed warily, carrying the abandoned rifle.
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