IN COWBOY LAND. 



213 



" ' Well, where 's the constable ? ' says I. 



" ' Why, it was him that shot the justice of 

 the peace ! ' says he ; ' he's skipped the coun- 

 try with a bunch of horses.' 



" ' Well, ain't there no officer of the law left 

 in this town ? ' says I. 



" ' Why, of course,' says he, ' there 's a pro- 

 bate judge ; he is over tendin' bar at the Last 

 Chance Hotel.' 



" So I went over to the Last Chance Hotel 

 and I walked in there. ' Mornin',' says I. 



" ' Mornin',' says he. 



" ' You 're the probate judge ? ' says I. 



" That 's what I am,' says he. ' What do 

 you want ? ' says he. 



" ' I want justice,' says I. 



" What kind of justice do you want ? ' says 

 he. ' What 's it for ? ' 



" ' It 's for stealin' a horse,' says I. 



" ' Then by God you '11 git it,' says he. 

 ' Who stole the horse ? ' says he. 



" ' It is a man that lives in a 'dobe house, 

 just outside the town there,' says I. 



" ' Well, where do you come from your- 

 self ? ' said he. 



" From Medory,' said I. 



" With that he lost interest and settled kind 

 o' back, and says he, ' There won't no Cedar- 

 town jury hang a Cedartown man for stealin' 

 a Medory man's horse,' said he. 



" Well, what am I to do about my horse ? ' 

 says I. 



" ' Do ? ' says he ; ' well, you know where 

 the man lives, don't you ? ' says he ; ' then sit 



