his cigarette, pinched out the fire, and ground the stub under his
heel. He could feel the silence grow tense with expectancy; and when
he lifted his eyes, he knew that every man in that tent was staring
into his face.

"I used to believe," he began clearly, "in the Vigilantes. If I had
been here when the first Committee was formed, I'd have worked for it
myself. I believe it cleared the town of some of the worst scoundrels
in the country, and that's saying a good deal. But--"

"The Committee," interrupted the Captain, "would like to hear your
story of the shooting. Your private opinions can wait until the
investigation of that affair is ended."

"You're right. I beg your pardon for forgetting that it is not settled
yet!" Jack's voice was politely scornful. "Well, then, this kid told
the truth in every particular, even when he declared that Dick Swift
is a dirty liar. Swift is a liar. He's also a thief, and he's also a
murderer--and a few other things not as decent!

"As to the row, I was walking out that way, when I saw this kid coming
up from the bay toward the town. The three, Swift, Rawhide Jack, and
Texas Bill, met him where the--er--trouble took place. I was too far
off to hear what was said; in fact, I didn't pay any attention much,
till I saw the kid struggling to get away. I walked towards them then.
It was easy enough to see that it was a hold-up, pure and simple. I
was about fifty yards from them when I saw Swift, here, raise a knife
to jab it into the boy's throat. Texas and Rawhide were both holding
the kid's arms and bending him backwards so he couldn't do anything.
When I saw the knife, I began to shoot." His eyes sought those of Bill