The Captain scowled under his black, slouch hat. "I've give strict
orders not to let anybody inside the tent till after the trial," he
said shortly.

"Oh, that's all right. I'll talk to 'em through the door," Bill agreed
equably. "Jack owes me some money."

The Captain muttered unintelligibly and passed on, and Bill chose to
interpret the mutter as consent. He strolled over to the tent, joked
condescendingly with the guard who stood before it, and announced that
the Captain had said he might talk to the prisoners.

"I did not," said the Captain unexpectedly at his shoulder. "I said
you couldn't. After the trial, you can collect what's coming to you,
Mr. Wilson. That is," he added hastily, "in case Allen should be
convicted. If he ain't, you can do as you please." He looked full at
the guard. "Shoot any man that attempts to enter that tent or talk to
the prisoners without my permission, Shorty," he directed, and turned
his back on Bill.

Bill did not permit one muscle of his face to twitch. "All right," he
drawled, "I guess I won't go broke if I don't get it. You mind what
your Captain tells you, Shorty! He's running this show, and what he
says goes. You've got a good man over yuh, Shorty. A fine man. He'll
weed out the town till it'll look like grandpa's onion bed--if the
supply of rope don't give out!" Whereupon he strolled carelessly back
to his place, and went in as if the incident were squeezed dry of
interest for him. He walked to the far end of the big room, sat
deliberately down upon a little table, and rewarded himself for his
forbearance by cursing methodically the Captain, the Committee of