“You can’t prove anything about this jail-burning,” he told Jake Rule and the assembled multitude, “but this assault on Jack Harpe is a cat with another tail.  It was a lawless act and hadn’t oughta happened.  Marie, yo’re a citizen of Farewell, and you’d oughta take an interest in the community instead of surging out and trying to massacre a visitor in our midst, a visitor who’s figuring on settlin’ hereabouts, I understand.  Gawd knows we need all the inhabitants we can get, and it’s just such tricks as yores, Marie, that discourages immigration.”

Here Judge Dolan frowned upon Marie and thumped the palm of his hand with a bony fist.  Marie stood first on one leg and then on the other and hung her head down.  Since her raving outburst at the time of her arrest she had cooled considerably.  It was evident that she was now trying to make the best of a bad business.

“Marie,” resumed Judge Dolan, and cleared his throat importantly, “why did you shoot at Mr. Jack Harpe?”

“He insulted me,” Marie replied without a quiver.

“I ain’t ever said a word to her,” countered Jack Harpe.  “I don’t even know the girl.”

The judge turned back to Marie.  “Have you any witnesses to this insult?” he queried.

“Nary a witness.”  Marie shook her brown head.

“Y’ oughta have a witness.  She’s yore word against his.  Where did this insult take place?”

“At my shack.  He come there early this mornin’.”

“That’s a lie!” boomed Jack Harpe.

“Which will be about all from you!” snapped Judge Dolan, vigorously pounding his palm.

“What did he say to you?” was the judge’s next question.

“I’d rather not tell,” hedged Marie.

“Well, of course, you don’t have to answer,” said the judge, gallantly.  “But alla same, Marie, you hadn’t oughta used a gun on him.  It—­it ain’t ladylike.  Nawsir.  Don’t you do it again or I’ll send you to Piegan City.  Ten dollars or ten days.”

“What?” Thus Jack Harpe, astonished beyond measure.

“Ten dollars or ten days,” repeated Judge Dolan.  “Taking a shot at you is worth ten dollars but no more.  It don’t make any difference whether you came here to invest money or not, you wanna go slow round the women.”

“But I didn’t even say howdy to her,” protested Jack Harpe.

“She says different.  You leave her alone.”

Public opinion, which at first had rather favoured Jack Harpe, now frowned upon him.  He shouldn’t have insulted the girl.  No, sir, he had no business doing that.  Be a good thing if he was arrested for it, perhaps.  What a virtuous thing is public opinion.

“I ain’t got a nickel, Judge,” said Marie.  “You’ll have to trust me for it till the end of the week.”

“I’ll pay her fine,” nipped in Racey, glad of an opportunity to annoy Jack Harpe.  “Here y’ are, Judge.  Ten dollars, you said.”

It was a few minutes after he had eaten dinner that Racey Dawson presented himself at the door of Kansas Casey’s shack.  The door was open.  Racey stood in the doorway and leaned the shovel against the wall of the room.