Of that face Yorke had once remarked to Slavin:  “That beggar’s mug fairly haunts me sometimes. . . .  He’s a good fellow, Gully,—­but, you know—­when he gets that brooding look on his face . . . he’s the living personification of a western Eugene Aram.”

And Slavin, engaged in shredding a pipeful of tobacco had mumbled absently “So?—­Ujin Airum!—­I du not mind th’ ould shtiff—­fwhat was his reg’minthal number?”

The sergeant finished his evidence; Kilbride swung round to his fellow-justice once more and they held a whispered consultation, the latter making emphatic gestures throughout the colloquy.  This ending the inspector turned to the prisoner.

“You have pleaded guilty to each of these charges.  Have you anything to say?—­any explanation to offer for your reckless, disorderly conduct?”

The prisoner swallowed nervously and shuffled with his feet.  “Guess I was drunk,” he said finally, “didn’t know what I was doin’.”

The inspector’s grey eyes glittered coldly.  “So?” he drawled ironically, “the sergeant’s evidence is to the contrary.  It would appear that you were not so very drunk.  You were neither staggering nor incapable at the time.  It was merely a rehearsal of a cheap bit of dime novel sort of bar-room, rough-house black-guardism that no doubt in various other places you have got away with and emerged the swaggering hero.  Where do you come from?  Whom are you working for now?”

“Havre, Montana.  I’m ridin’ fur th’ North-West Cattle Company.”

“Ah! well, let me tell you that sort of stuff doesn’t go over on this side, my man.”  He considered a moment and picked up a Criminal Code.  “In view of your pleading guilty to these charges, and therefore not wasting the time of this court unnecessarily, I propose dealing with you in more lenient fashion than you deserve.  For being unlawfully in possession of firearms you are fined twenty dollars and costs.  For ‘pointing fire-arms,’ fifty dollars and costs.  On the charge of ‘resisting the police in the execution of their duty’ you are sentenced to six months imprisonment with hard labour in the Mounted Police Guard-room at Calgary.  You are also required to make restitution for all damage caused as the result of your fracas.”

Moran squirmed and mumbled:  “If I’ve got t’ do time on the one charge I might as well do it on th’ rest, an’ save th’ money fur t’ pay fur th’ damage.”

“Very good!” agreed the inspector coldly.  He bent again to his confrere and they conferred awhile.  Then he turned to the prisoner.  “Thirty days hard labour then—­on each of the first two charges—­sentences to run concurrently.”  He paused a space, resuming sternly:  “And let me tell you this, Moran:  in view of certain wild threats uttered by you in public you have narrowly escaped being charged with the greatest of all crimes.  It is indeed a fortunate thing for you that you have been able to produce a reliable alibi.  All right, Sergeant! you can close the court.  Make out that warrant of commitment and I and Mr. Gully will sign it later.  We’re going over to see the coroner.”