ON THE FRINGE 323 



Our * boss ' sheep-herder, one Bill Nokes by name, 

 was an exception to the general rule, with a most 

 original flow of stories and conversation. Possibly 

 this originality of mind accounted, in part, for the 

 fact that as a manager of sheep he eventually proved 

 a complete failure. 



\Ve happened to meet him that morning, before 

 starting, in the chief dry-goods store of Caspar, where 

 he was engaged in buying a clock for a friend who 

 was about to get married, and who was setting up a 

 domestic establishment of his own. 



The storekeeper was displaying his goods, and 

 finally recommended most strongly a particular eight- 

 day clock. 



The following conversation took place. 



' There,' said the storekeeper, ' is a clock that will 

 go eight days without winding.' 



' The blank it will !' replied Bill. * How long will 

 it go if I do wind it ?' and he affected not to under- 

 stand the general laughter of the bystanders at his 

 remark. 



But these are merely sidelights on the ways of 

 Caspar and its inhabitants. 



The next day the famous preliminary hearing or 

 trial took place, and Cowan and I went early and 

 secured good front places in the court-house. 



It was obvious from the first that the long odds at 

 starting were in favour of the accused. The court 

 was crowded with cowboys, sheep and cattle men, 

 and the leading male aristocracy of Caspar generally. 

 As some threats of shooting the chief witness for the 

 prosecution were in the air, the proceedings were 

 opened by a general search for arms, conducted by 

 the Sheriff's deputy * by order of the court.' For the 



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