“‘We’ll have to take you back to Texas,’ says I.

“‘I’d like to go back,’ says the boy, with a kind of a grin—­’if it wasn’t on an occasion of this kind.  It’s the life I like.  I’ve always wanted to ride and shoot and live in the open air ever since I can remember.’

“‘Who was this gang of stout parties you took this trip with?’ I asks.

“‘My stepfather,’ says he, ’and some business partners of his in some Mexican mining and land schemes.’

“‘I saw you shoot Pedro Johnson,’ says I, ’and I took that little popgun away from you that you did it with.  And when I did so I noticed three or four little scars in a row over your right eyebrow.  You’ve been in rookus before, haven’t you?’

“‘I’ve had these scars ever since I can remember,’ says he.  ’I don’t know how they came there.’

“‘Was you ever in Texas before?’ says I.

“‘Not that I remember of,’ says he.  ’But I thought I had when we struck the prairie country.  But I guess I hadn’t.’

“‘Have you got a mother?’ I asks.

“‘She died five years ago,’ says he.

“Skipping over the most of what followed—­when Luke came back I turned the kid over to him.  He had seen Scudder and told him what he wanted; and it seems that Scudder got active with one of these telephones as soon as he left.  For in about an hour afterward there comes to our hotel some of these city rangers in everyday clothes that they call detectives, and marches the whole outfit of us to what they call a magistrate’s court.  They accuse Luke of attempted kidnapping, and ask him what he has to say.

“‘This snipe,’ says Luke to the judge, ’shot and wilfully punctured with malice and forethought one of the most respected and prominent citizens of the town of Bildad, Texas, Your Honor.  And in so doing laid himself liable to the penitence of law and order.  And I hereby make claim and demand restitution of the State of New York City for the said alleged criminal; and I know he done it.’

“’Have you the usual and necessary requisition papers from the governor of your state?’ asks the judge.

“‘My usual papers,’ says Luke, ’was taken away from me at the hotel by these gentlemen who represent law and order in your city.  They was two Colt’s .45’s that I’ve packed for nine years; and if I don’t get ’em back, there’ll be more trouble.  You can ask anybody in Mojada County about Luke Summers.  I don’t usually need any other kind of papers for what I do.’

“I see the judge looks mad, so I steps up and says: 

“’Your Honor, the aforesaid defendant, Mr. Luke Summers, sheriff of Mojada County, Texas, is as fine a man as ever threw a rope or upheld the statutes and codicils of the greatest state in the Union.  But he—­’

“The judge hits his table with a wooden hammer and asks who I am.

“Bud Oakley,’ says I.  ’Office deputy of the sheriff’s office of Mojada County, Texas.  Representing,’ says I, ‘the Law.  Luke Summers,’ I goes on, ’represents Order.  And if Your Honor will give me about ten minutes in private talk, I’ll explain the whole thing to you, and show you the equitable and legal requisition papers which I carry in my pocket.’