“Just a moment now,” said Hal. “Let’s consider. Suppose we had a real government--what steps would we take? We’d carry such a case to the District Attorney, wouldn’t we?” “Yes, no doubt of it,” said MacKellar. “You mentioned him before,” said Hal. “He threatened to prosecute some mine-superintendents for ballot-frauds, you said.” “That was while he was running for election,” said MacKellar. “Oh! I remember what Jeff Cotton said--that he was friendly to the miners in his speeches, and to the companies in his acts.” “That’s the man,” said the other, drily. “Well,” argued Hal, “oughtn’t I go to him, to give him a chance, at least? You can’t tell, he might have a heart inside him.” “It isn’t a heart he needs,” replied MacKellar; “it’s a back-bone.” “But surely I ought to put it up to him! If he won’t do anything, at least I’ll put him on record, and it’ll make another story for you, won’t it, Mr. Keating?” “Yes, that’s true,” admitted the reporter. “What would you ask him to do?” “Why, to lay the matter before the Grand Jury; to bring indictments against the North Valley bosses.” “But that would take a long time; it wouldn’t save the men in the mine.” “What might save them would be the threat of it.” MacKellar put in. “I don’t think any threat of Dick Barker’s would count for that much. The bosses know they could stop him.” “Well, isn’t there somebody else? Shouldn’t I try the courts?” “What courts?” “I don’t know. You tell me.” “Well,” said the Scotchman, “to begin at the bottom, there’s a justice of the peace.” “Who’s he?” “Jim Anderson, a horse-doctor. He’s like any other J.P. you ever knew--he lives on petty graft.” “Is there a higher court?” “Yes, the district court; Judge Denton. He’s the law-partner of Vagleman, counsel for the ‘G. F. C.’ How far would you expect to get with him?” “I suppose I’m clutching at straws,” said Hal. “But they say that’s what a drowning man does. Anyway, I’m going to see these people, and maybe out of the lot of them I can find one who’ll act. It can’t do any harm!” The three men thought of some harm it might do; they tried to make Hal consider the danger of being slugged Or shot. “They’ll do it!” exclaimed MacKellar. “And no trouble for them--they’ll prove you were stabbed by a drunken Dago, quarrelling over some woman.”