"What's this I hear about you, Bud? Get up and speak for yourself," said
Sampson, gruffly.

Snell got up, not without a furtive glance at Steele, and he had
shuffled forward a few steps toward the mayor. He had an evil front,
but not the boldness even of a rustler.

"It ain't so, Sampson," he began loudly. "I went in Hoden's place fer
grub. Some feller I never seen before come in from the hall an' hit him
an' wrastled him on the floor. Then this big Ranger grabbed me an'
fetched me here. I didn't do nothin'. This Ranger's hankerin' to arrest
somebody. Thet's my hunch, Sampson."

"What have you to say about this, Hoden?" sharply queried Sampson. "I
call to your mind the fact that you once testified falsely in court, and
got punished for it."

Why did my sharpened and experienced wits interpret a hint of threat or
menace in Sampson's reminder? Hoden rose from the bench and with an
unsteady hand reached down to support himself.

He was no longer young, and he seemed broken in health and spirit. He
had been hurt somewhat about the head.

"I haven't much to say," he replied. "The Ranger dragged me here. I told
him I didn't take my troubles to court. Besides, I can't swear it was
Snell who hit me."

Sampson said something in an undertone to Judge Owens, and that worthy