“So I have, so I have! As you will infer, I looked through your pockets. Thorpe is my name--S. S. Thorpe. Stay--here is my card. You will see that I am entitled to the prefix ‘Hon.,’ having been sometime State Senator. Call me Judge. I have never occupied that exalted position, but all the boys call me Judge. To go back--we were speaking of your opponent. Perhaps you knew him? No? Mr. Broderick, Mr. Oily Broderick, once of San Antonio, a man of some renown. We shall miss him, Mr. Bransford, we shall miss him! A very useful fellow! But your eyes ask the question--Dead? Dear me, yes! Dead and buried these many hours. He never knew what ailed him. Both of your bullets found a vital spot. A sad loss! But I interrupt. I am much interested to see how nearly accurate your analysis of the situation will be.” “The short man--was he killed, too?” asked Jeff. “The worthy Krouse was killed as well,” said Judge Thorpe, sighing with comfortable resignation. “But Krouse was a negligible quantity. Amiable, but a bungler. Go on!” “Your intended victim seems to have escaped----” “Survived,” corrected Judge Thorpe gently, with complacent inspection of his shapely hands. “Survived is the better word, believe me. Captain Charles Tillotson, Captain of the Rangers. An estimable gentleman, with whom, I grieve to say, I was not on the best of terms. To our political enmity, of long standing--and you perhaps know that Southwestern politics are extremely bitter--has been added of late a certain social rivalry. But I digress. You were saying----” “But you are prompting me,” said Jeff testily. “It is hardly necessary. Your enemy not being killed outright, you choose to assassinate his good name, juggling appearances to make it seem that he was the murderer--and to that end you have spirited me away.” “Exactly! You are a man after my own heart--a man of acumen and discernment,” said Judge Thorpe, beaming, “although I did, as you suggest, prompt you at some points--knowing that you were not familiar with all the premises. Really, Mr. Bransford, though I would not unduly exalt myself, I cannot help but think my little device showed more than mere talent. It was, considering the agitating circumstances, considering that both conception and execution had to be instantaneous, little less than Napoleonic! I feel sure that when I tell you the details you will share my enthusiasm.” Jeff was doing some quick thinking. He recalled what he had heard of Thorpe. He was best known as a powerful and wealthy politician of El Paso, who in his younger days had been a dangerous gunfighter. Of late years, however, he had become respected and reputable, his youthful foibles forgotten. The appalling frankness of this avowal could bode no good to Jeff. Evidently he was helplessly in this man’s power, and his life had been spared for some sinister and shameful purpose. “Before you favor me with any more details, Judge,” said Jeff, “can’t you give me an old boot to chew on?”