Bill Anderson was waiting for him when he arrived at his house. The political boss apologized for losing his temper the evening before. His regret appeared so sincere that the judge almost forgot that momentary flash he had seen of the man's real character. A little later Mac Kennedy and Ace Cutts arrived. Kennedy was a frequent visitor at the house and a great favorite of Mrs. Ransom's. Ace Cutts was a sleek-haired young fellow of twenty-three, who went in for flashy clothes and handmade boots. He had full charge of the Bar X, and the judge had brought him up as his own son, although he had never adopted the boy legally. At times Ace's wildness bothered him. Now Ace drew his foster father aside. "Look here, dad. Why lean over so straight you fall over backward? Be sensible. Take things easy. They can't possibly acquit Pete Cable. Why not work things to have a hung verdict? Then you grant a new trial. You can be in Washington, and another judge will hang him." "I'm sorry to hear you talk like that, my boy," the judge said severely. Ace flared up. "Rats! It's sense. They'll break you," he cried angrily. "Ace, come on, if you're going to dinner with me!" Kennedy called sharply. Kennedy said good night to the judge and departed, followed by the sulky Ace. The judge watched them thoughtfully. He wished Ace would get control of that temper; he said foolish things when he was angry, and people might misunderstand him. About ten that night Toothpick and Jim Allen arrived back in town. All day they had lain flat on their stomachs, under cover of brush, and watched the lava fields with a pair of powerful binoculars. Now they had circled the town and entered it from the north. Toothpick went to the jail, where he held a long, whispered conference with the sheriff. Powers' expression changed from surprise to delight as he listened. Allen went to Maria's cantina. He staggered as he arrived, but he had money to pay for a bottle, so Maria allowed him to remain. He chose a table close to the rear door; here he drank the first bottle and called for another. He was halfway through this when Dutchy and another man entered. They argued drunkenly for a time, and ended in a fist fight. A table and a chair crashed over. Maria screamed. She left her bar to stop the fight and assailed the two men with furious words. They mumbled and staggered out. When she returned to the bar she looked about for Allen; he had vanished. Puzzled, she stared about for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders with indifferent indolence. Allen had slipped, under cover of the fight, out of the back door. He found, as he expected, another door beyond, that led from the storeroom into a path. This, in turn, led to an alley, which cut the block in two and was lined by shacks, little better than hovels. Directly opposite from the intersection of the path and the alley lay a corral.