“I’m paid to uphold the law,” said the sheriff stiffly. The hobo sighed wearily, as he scraped his heel against the cinders. “Do you always uphold the law?” “Always--that’s what I’m here for.” “A little authority has made you your brother’s keeper, eh?” “I’m the sheriff.” “Oh, I can see that. But what right have you to haul me off that train? It isn’t your train. You’re not paid to guard that train, are you? Don’t shove me. Can’t you see I’m a sick man?” “Sick man!” sneered the sheriff. “Sick because I’m goin’ to lock yuh up for a few days. Don’t play ’possum with me.” “I’m not playing ’possum, as you say; I’m sick.” The man really looked sick, in spite of his grimy face, but the sheriff twisted him around by the shoulder and started him toward the jail. Several persons, including the deputy, waited on the depot platform to see what the sheriff was going to do, and as the sheriff marched his prisoner past them he told the deputy to come with him. * * * * * The deputy followed down to the jail, where the hobo was locked behind the bars. The deputy made no comment, but followed the sheriff back to the office, where they sat down. “Said he was sick,” remarked the sheriff disgustedly. “Looked sick,” said the deputy wearily, fanning himself with his sombrero. The sheriff studied the lean face of his deputy for a length of time. “How did you happen to bring the old lady in today, Joe?” he asked. “She asked me to. I came past the ranch. I told her I’d take the team back and get my horse. She was comin’, anyway,” as though to defend his position in the matter. “She was, eh? You never stopped to think that you were workin’ for me, did yuh? You waste a day, bringin’ her in, and waste another day in goin’ back with that team. Do you think I’m payin’ you to use up time that way?” The deputy flushed slightly and his lips tightened. “I didn’t know that _you_ paid me anythin’, Deming. Ain’t I paid by the county?” “I’m part of that county, Joe; the sheriff part of it. I hired yuh, didn’t I?” The deputy got slowly from his chair and put on his hat. “You hired me, Deming, but I’ll be damned if you fire me; I quit right now.” “All right; suit yourself.” “I intend to, Deming. In fact, I intended to quit yuh when I came down here. You never even told yore wife good-by; just walked away to arrest a hobo, who wasn’t doin’ you any harm. Yo’re plumb loco over duty, ain’t yuh? I’m scared of yuh, Jim; honest, I am. Yore wife said you was worshippin’ that tin god on yore vest; that sheriff’s star. I reckon yuh are.