All the fighting blood had flowed out of Rand’s smashed lips. He was whining now: “Come, old man, what’s the idea?” Wint and Radabaugh marched him between them through the crowd. Two or three score curious, cheering or cursing spectators followed them to the cells behind the fire-engine house. Rand submitted to being locked up there with no more than querulous protests. He seemed thoroughly tamed. He asked for a lawyer, but Wint said there was no need of a lawyer that night. Two of the fire department, on duty, had come out to see the business of locking up this second prisoner. Radabaugh bade them keep an eye on the cells, and they agreed to do so. Then the marshal scattered the crowd. Wint washed his bruised hands in the engine house. After a little, Radabaugh came in; and Wint asked: “Is it true you got a man selling?” “Yes. The capper at the lottery.” “How’d you get him?” Radabaugh chuckled, and shifted the lump in his cheek. “Saw Ote Runns,” he said. “Figured Ote would nose out any loose booze, so I kind of kept an eye on Ote. He talked to two or three men, and finally to this fellow. They went in behind the billboard by the hotel, and I saw him slip Ote the bottle and take Ote’s money. So I nabbed him.” “Ote? Get him too?” “Yes; him and his half pint. I let him keep it. He was pretty shaky. Needed it, I guess.” Wint nodded. “Be around in the morning?” he asked. “I’ll be down early.” Radabaugh assented. Wint hesitated, then he said: “Good work, Jim.” The marshal grinned. “Well,” he told Wint, “from the looks of Rand’s face, you did some good work, too.” They shook hands. There was a distinctly mutual liking and admiration in their grip. Then Wint started for home, and Radabaugh went back to keep an eye on his prisoners. * * * * * One of Rand’s men went to V. R. Kite with the news of the trouble; and Kite, uncertain what to do, sent for Jack Routt and told him what had happened. This was at midnight. “I’ve got to stand by Rand,” Kite said. “The question is, are we ready to get after Wint?” Routt shook his head. “Time for that. Hold off,” he advised. Kite asked impatiently: “How long? What makes you think you can get anything on him?” “It’s ripe,” said Routt. “Apt to break any time. I’ve been working on it.” In the end, he persuaded Kite to wait. “Well, then,” Kite asked, “what are we going to do about Rand?” “He’s got to take his medicine.” “He won’t. He’ll fight.” “I’ll tell you,” said Routt. “I’ll go see him. Fix it up with him.” “Can you do it without Wint’s finding out?” Routt laughed. “I’m a lawyer. I’ve a right to have clients, even in the Mayor’s court. I’ll take their case.” Kite, in the end, agreed to that. When Routt left the little man, he intended to go direct to the jail; but on the way, he changed his mind. As well to let the men cool their heels. It would make Rand more ready to listen to reason.