As the day was declining to evening, and Judge Thayer's supper hour was near, they agreed on postponing until morning the drive out to look at the dissatisfied settler's land. Morgan was leaving when the judge called him back from the door. "I was just wondering whether you'd ever had any editorial experience?" he said. "No, I've never been an editor," Morgan returned, speculating alertly on what might be forthcoming. "We--our editor--our editor," said the judge, fumbling with it as if he found the matter a difficult one to fit to the proper words, "fell into an unfortunate error of judgment a short time ago, with--um-m-m--somewhat melancholy--melancholy--" the judge paused, as if feeling of this word to see that it fitted properly, head bent thoughtfully--"results. Unlucky piece of business for this community, coming right in the thick of the contest for the county seat. There's a fight on here, Mr. Morgan, as you may have heard, between Ascalon, the present county seat, and Glenmore, a God-abandoned little flyspeck on the map seven miles south of here." "I hadn't heard of it. And what happened to the editor?" "Oh, one of our hot-headed boys shot him," said the judge, out of patience with such trivial and hasty yielding to passion. "Since then I've been getting out the paper myself--I hold a mortgage on the property, I'll be obliged to foreclose to protect myself--with the help of the printer. It's not much of a paper, Morgan, for I haven't got the time to devote to it with the July term of court coming on, but I have to get it out every week or lose the county printing contract. There's a hungry dog over at Glenmore looking on to snatch the bone on the least possible excuse, and he's got two of the county commissioners with him." "No, I'm not an editor," Morgan repeated, speculatively, as if he saw possibilities of distinction in that road. "Without the press, we are a community disarmed in the midst of our enemies," said the judge. "Glenmore will overwhelm us and rob us of our rights, without a champion whose voice is as the voice of a thousand men." "I'd never be equal to that," Morgan said, shaking his head in all seriousness. "Is the editor out of it for good? Is he dead?" "They have a devilish peculiarity of seldom wounding a man here in Ascalon, Mr. Morgan. I've wished more than once they were not so cursed proficient. The poor fellow fell dead, sir, at the first shot, while he was reaching for his gun." "I've seen something of their proficiency here," Morgan said, with plain contempt. Judge Thayer looked at him sharply. "You refer to that affair at the hotel this afternoon?" "It was a brutal and uncalled-for sacrifice of human life! it was murder in the name of the law."