“Haven’t seen Kite, have you?” “Hear he’s out of town. Be back Thursday.” “All right. We’ll hold Lutcher till then and have it out.” Wint heard a gulp that told him Radabaugh was shifting that bulge in his cheek. “He’s wanted to furnish bail,” the marshal said. “Nothing doing,” Wint told him. “We-ell--he’s got a right to want to.” “We’re sound sleepers here. You couldn’t raise me with the telephone,” Wint suggested. “Lutcher’s all dressed up in a yellow vest and everything; and he didn’t fetch his jail pajamas with him.” “He can sleep in the yellow vest.” “It’s your funeral,” Radabaugh decided philosophically. “Whatever you say.” “That’s right.” And Wint added: “I’m glad you got him, Jim. Good work.” “Oh, he weren’t so much to get. I told you he put himself in the way of it.” “Just the same, you had good nerve.” “We-ell--maybe so.” Wint went back to bed; but he didn’t go to sleep. He was tingling with the pleasurable excitement of combat; and he was immensely pleased at this chance to give evidence of the sincerity of his fight for a clean Hardiston. Those orders to Radabaugh which had become something like a proverb in Hardiston.... This was their test. He meant that they should meet the test. He could not decide whether the incident would help him or hurt him at the polls; it was impossible to tell. But--he did not care. Hurt or help, his course would be the same. Unchangeable. Lutcher should get the limit. Whatever the evidence justified. The rest was on the lap of the gods. Let them take care of it. It may have been an hour or two before he was asleep again; and he woke in the morning a little tired because of the sleep he had lost. But the cold tub revived him; he was cheerful enough when he came down to breakfast; and when his father appeared, Wint told him the news. “Something doing, dad,” he said. Chase looked at him in quick and surprised interest; and he asked: “What? What do you mean, Wint?” “Did you hear the telephone last night, about midnight?” “No.” “I did,” said Mrs. Chase. “I thought I heard the bell; but your father was asleep, and I wasn’t sure. I came to the head of the stairs, but you were already down.” “I answered as quickly as I could. The bell only rang once or twice.” “Who was it?” Chase asked quickly. “Radabaugh. Jim. The marshal. He’s arrested Lutcher.” “Lutcher! What for?” “Bootlegging!” Chase uttered an involuntary exclamation. “Lutcher? He’s Kite’s right-hand man.” “Absolutely.” “Radabaugh arrested him?” “Yes.” “Has he got a case?” “Jim always has a case, when he makes an arrest.” “But Lutcher.... He’s shrewd. Knows how to cover his tracks.” “He didn’t cover well enough this time.” Wint’s elation was singing in his voice. “But he--” “As a matter of fact,” said Wint, “Radabaugh thinks Lutcher allowed himself to be caught. Thinks he wanted to get arrested.” “By God, that doesn’t sound reasonable!” “He’ll be sorry.” “They’ve got something up their sleeves, Wint.” “So have I!”