He went up Main Street toward the carnival, and found that the tents were coming down, one of Radabaugh’s officers keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Wint’s orders that the shows be closed could not be evaded. This much, at least, he had scored. Routt went home and did some thinking. He appeared at the jail half an hour before Wint came to hold court; and Radabaugh let him talk with Rand and with the other man. When Wint appeared, the two were brought into court, with Ote Runns as a witness, for good measure. Wint was surprised to see Routt. Jack nodded to him, and came up to Wint’s desk, and said: “Rand sent for me. Wanted me to take his case. He knows he’s licked, I think. He’ll take his medicine, if you don’t make it too stiff.” “I’m charging him with assault and with using profane language,” said Wint. “Assault?” Routt laughed. “Thought it was you that did the assaulting.” “He made threats. Threats constitute an assault. You know that as well as I do.” Routt nodded. “Oh, sure.” He added: “You know, the carnival’s shut up. It’s costing Rand money. You might go as light as you can.” “I’m going to give the other man the limit,” said Wint. “That’s all right,” Routt agreed. “Rand’s sore at him for getting caught. He’ll let the poor gink take his medicine.” Wint nodded abstractedly. Foster, the city solicitor, had just come in, and Wint beckoned to him, and asked: “What’s the worst I can do on a charge of illegal liquor selling?” “Two hundred dollars’ fine on the first offense,” Foster told him. Three minutes later, the offender was protesting that he could not pay such a fine; he was appealing desperately to Rand. Wint bade the carnival boss stand up. Rand got to his feet. “I’m sorry for this business,” he said humbly. “I thought you were just trying to save your face. Running a bluff.” “Are you paying his fine for your friend?” Wint asked coldly. Rand said: “No, blast him! If he wants to get caught by a hick constable, let him take his medicine. Work it out.” “I wouldn’t call Radabaugh a hick to his face,” Wint suggested in a mild voice, and Rand apologized. “I didn’t mean a thing,” he said. Wint, in a swift hurry to be done, told him: “You’re fined ten for assault, and five for profanity. And costs.” “That’s all right,” Rand cheerfully agreed. “I’ll pay.” Wint nodded, disgusted at the man because he submitted so tamely. He sat back in his chair, listening idly to what Routt was saying, paying no apparent heed. Rand settled his fines and costs with the clerk, shook hands with Routt, and departed. When he was gone, Wint sat up with new energy. “I hope we’re rid of him for good,” he said. “You are, I’ll say,” Routt told him. “He’s had all he wants.” The carnival got out of town that day; but before he departed, Rand had a word with Kite, and Kite comforted him. “Don’t worry,” Kite said. “This won’t last. You’ll make a harvest here, next summer.”