"Sheriff Minter, I've heard a lot about the time you ran down Johnny
Garden. But I've never had the straight of it. Won't you tell us how it
happened?"

"Oh," protested the sheriff, "it don't amount to much."

Elizabeth cast one frantic glance at her brother, and strove to edge into
the interval of silence with a question directed at Mr. Gainor. But he
shelved that question; the whole table was obviously waiting for the
great man to speak. A dozen appeals for the yarn poured in.

"Well," said the sheriff, "if you folks are plumb set on it, I'll tell
you just how it come about."

There followed a long story of how Johnny Garden had announced that he
would ride down and shoot up the sheriff's own town, and then get away on
the sheriff's own horse--and how he did it. And how the sheriff was
laughed at heartily by the townsfolk, and how the whole mountain district
joined in the laughter. And how he started out single-handed in the
middle of winter to run down Johnny Garden, and struck through the
mountains, was caught above the timberline in a terrific blizzard, kept
on in peril of his life until he barely managed to reach the timber again
on the other side of the ridge. How he descended upon the hiding-place of
Johnny Garden, found Johnny gone, but his companions there, and made a
bargain with them to let them go if they would consent to stand by and
offer no resistance when he fought with Johnny on the latter's return.
How they were as good as their word and how, when Johnny returned, they
stood aside and let Johnny and the sheriff fight it out. How the sheriff
beat Johnny to the draw, but was wounded in the left arm while Johnny
fired a second shot as he lay dying on the floor of the lean-to. How the