Savvy?"

"Right," replied Lodge, entirely won over, and he settled himself on
the grass, with the notebook on his knee and a stub of a pencil poised
over it.

"Larsen, you're sergeant-at-arms."

"How d'you mean that, Sinclair?"

"That's what they call them that keeps order; I disremember where I
heard it. Larsen, if anybody starts raising a rumpus, it's up to you to
shut 'em up."

"I'll sure do it," declared Larsen. "You can sure leave that to me,
judge." He hoisted his gun belt around so that the gun butt hung more
forward and readier to his hand.

"Denver, you're the jailer. You see the prisoner don't get away. Keep
an eye on him, you see?"

"Easy, judge," replied Denver. "I can do it with one hand."

"Montana, you keep the door."

"What d'you mean--door, judge?"

"Ain't you got no imagination whatever?" demanded Sinclair. "You keep
the door. When I holler for a witness you go and get 'em. And
Sandersen, you're the hangman. Take charge of that rope!"