Blodgett went to him and leaned over with the intention of reassuring him, when there was a disturbance at the window which opened from a balcony a few feet above the street. Both of the men turned just in time to see John Marvin climb through the window and pull his suit-case in after him. The sheriff stepped forward, hesitating as he realized his powers were negative in a court-room. "Here, what you doing?" the clerk called out, getting up from his desk. The sheriff glared and handled the manacles in his pocket with an intemperate disgust. Marvin looked at him and laughed, answering the clerk. "I've got business in this court. I'm John Marvin and I'm appearing in the case the Pacific Railroad has brought against me." He did not deign to glance at Thomas, who had arisen, facing him, white from the blow to his hope of obtaining a judgment by default. Marvin went calmly to the other end of the attorneys' table and opened up his shabby brown-canvas brief-case. He whistled to himself softly as he did so and glanced at Thomas, whose pallid mouth was drawn into a dogged sneer. Blodgett went back to his seat just within the swinging gates that gave entrance behind the railing and sat glaring at Marvin. Quiet reigned in the court; then a faint shuffle of feet was heard beyond the door. As Blodgett looked around, the door of the court-room opened gently and Bill Jones, clad in a Civil War veteran's uniform, faded from the sun, its brass buttons tarnished, and wearing his soldier's black soft hat with its gold cord cocked jauntily over one eye, sauntered down the aisle, holding out his hand to Marvin, who had jumped from his seat and bounded around the table to greet him. "Hello, John!" Lightnin' drawled, grinning. "How's tricks? You look kinder legal this morning?" CHAPTER XVI As Bill made his way through the swinging gates, Blodgett put out a detaining arm, asking, with a scowl, "Here, what do _you_ want?" "Been arrestin' any one in California lately?" Bill slid past Blodgett, ignoring his attempt to stop him, the old twinkle in his eye as he touched what he knew to be the sheriff's sensitive spot. "Well, Lightnin'," Marvin exclaimed, "how did you get here and what in the world have you come for?" "Yer case ain't over yet, is it?" Marvin shook his head, repeating his first question. Bill did not reply at once. Not wanting Marvin to know that he and Zeb had been nearly two weeks getting there, and that they had come in much the same way they had gone, riding when they could get a lift on a train or a wagon, walking when they could not, he pretended to forget the young man's questions, asking one himself instead, "What time your case comin' up?" "Two o'clock."