"Being a judge in this district I am, of course, averse to advising any infractions of the law. But if I were not a judge I would suggest that two strong, energetic men--such as you appear to be----" He leaned forward and whispered in Allen's ear, whereat that gentleman let out a joyous whoop and almost dragged Hollis around the corner of the building toward the street, leaving the Judge standing in the doorway. Once on the street Allen set a pace that brought the two to the door of the sheriff's office quickly. A light shone through the window and when Allen opened the door Watkins was sitting beside his desk, gravely fumbling a deck of cards. He dropped them when he saw his visitors and made a quick movement with his right hand toward his revolver. But Allen's weapon was already out. "Bill," he said in a soft, even voice, "we're wantin' a warrant for the arrest of Bill Dunlavey. The charge is stealin' cattle. Of course you'll issue it," he added insinuatingly. Watkins's face slowly paled. "Why----" he began. "Of course I knowed you wouldn't do it when I asked you," said Allen with a dangerously soft smile. "That's why I come down here. This town's got a sheriff an' it ain't. I wouldn't care a damn if it didn't have you. There's lots of folks wouldn't care either. So that if you're one of them which does care you're settin' right still an' not sayin' anything which can be construed as talk till my friend here goes down to the station." He whispered to Hollis. "Be middlin' rapid," he said aloud afterward, "an' use my name." He turned to Watkins with a smile. "While we're waitin' I'll do some talkin'," he said. "But if you let out one little wee chirp them folks which don't care about you bein' sheriff of this man's town will sure have a heap of cause to rejoice." Hollis was already far down the street toward the station. When he got there the station was dark--evidently the agent had gone to bed. Hollis pounded heavily on the door and presently the agent opened it, appearing in his night shirt, a heavy six-shooter in hand, his eyes blinking. "My name is Hollis," said the latter from the darkness; "I want you to telegraph the governor." "Come in." The agent disappeared within, Hollis following. "This way," he directed, as he disappeared through another door leading into the station, his night shirt flapping about his lean legs. "What you wantin' to telegraph?" he questioned, as he seated himself before the instrument and looked up at Hollis. And then, before the latter could answer he continued: "You're the durndest man to stir up a muss I ever, seen in my life!" Hollis smiled grimly as he seized a blank and wrote his message to the governor: "Cattle thieves caught red-handed. Sheriff refuses to act. Crisis. Suggest you appoint me temporarily. BEN ALLEN" The agent took the message, read it, and then monotonously began to drum on the keys of his instrument.