Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1907-08-13

Brant squared his shoulders, MS
hands clinched. My question was,
Who is at the head of this outfit? and
want an answer"
The spokesman looked around upon
the others near him with grin OF de-
rision. "Oh, We do, hey? Well, reck-
on we are, If you must know. Since
Big Jim Larson got it in the shoulder
this outfit right yere hes bin dom
most Of the brain work So ii we've
| got anythin' ter say, mister officer
man, l reckon We better spit it out
yere ter me, an sorter relieve yer
| mind"
who are you?"
The fellow expectorated vigorously
| into the leaves under foot, and draw
| ing one hairy hand across his lips.
flushed angrily to the unexpected in
| quiry.
"Oh, tell him, Ben. What's the
blame odds? He can't do We no hurt"
The mans look became logged
I'm Ben Cotton, if it'll do We any good
to know"
II thought I had seen you some
where before" said Brant. contemptu-
| ously, and then swept his glance
| about the circle. "A nice leader Of
vigilantes you are, fine representa-
tive of law apd order. lovely speci-
men of the free born American
citizen! Men, do you happen to
know what sort of cur you are fol-
lowing in this AFFAIR.""
ooh, Ben's all right"
What We got against him, young
| feller?"
Just this. and Brant squarely
fronted the man, his voice ringing like
steel. 1--WE seen mobs Before to-day
and I've dealt with them. I'm not
afraid Of you or your whole outfit,
and I've got fighting men to back me
up. l never yet saw any mob which
wasn't led and melted by some cow
ardly, revengeful rascal. Honest men
get mixed up in such affairs, but they
are invariably infiamed by some low
down sneak with an ak to grind.
| confess don't know all about this
| Cotton, But I know enough to say he
! is an army deserter, a liar, a dive
keeper, a gambler, and, to my certain
| knowledge, the direct cause of the
death of three men, one soldier OF
| my troop. Now isn't his sweet speci-
, men to lead in the avenging of sup
| posed crime?"
| Whatever else Cotton might have
| failed in. he was a man of action. Like
a flash his gun flew to the level, but
was instantly knocked aside by the
grizzled old miner standing next him.
None O that, Ben" he growled,
warningly II don't never pay to
| shoot holes in Uncle Sam"
| Brant smiled. He was not there
just then to fight, but to secure delay
until his own men could arrive, and
to turn aside the fierce mob spirit II
such a result was found possible.
! 81 really would enjoy accommodate
| ing you, Coltou," he said, coolly, feel
ing much more at ease, but I never
fight personal battles with such fell
lows as you. And now. you other
men, it is about time you woke up to
the facts of this matter. A couple of
| hundred Of you chasing after two
men, one an officer of the law doing
his sworn duty, and the other limo
cent Of any crime. / should imagine
you would feel proud of your job"
Innocent? He'll"
"That is what / said. You fellows
| have gone off alf-cocked-a mob gen
orally does. Both Miss Spencer and
Mr.. Wynkoop state positively that
they saw the real murderer Of Red
slavin, and it was not Bob Hampton"
The men were impressed by his evil
dent earnestness, his unquestioned
courage. Several voices spoke almost
at once.
SIS that right?"
ooh, say, 1 saw the fellow with his
hand on the knife"
after we git the chap, we'll give
them people a chance to tell what
they know"
Brant's keenly attentive ears heard
the far-off chug of numerous horses
feet.
II rather think you WILL" he said,
confidently, his voice ringing out with
sudden authority.
He stepped back, lifted silver
whistle to his lips, and sounded one
sharp, clear note. There was a grow
ing thunder of hoofs a quick, manly
cheer, crashing through the under
brush, and squad of eager troopers,
half-dressed but with faces glowing
in anticipation Of trouble, came gal
Looping up the slope, swinging out into
line as they advanced, their carbines
cleaning in the sunlight. 1t was
prettily, sharply performed, and their
officers face frightened.
Very nicely done, Watson" he
said to the expectant sergeant. DE
ploy your men to left and right. and
clear out those shooters. Make a
good job of it, but no firing unless
you have to-"
The troopers went at 1t as if they
enjoyed the task. forcing their FESTIVE
horses through the thickets, and
roughly handling more than one who
ventured to question their authority.
Yet the work was over in less time
than it takes to tell. the discounted
regulators driven pell-mell down the
hill and back into the town, the eager
cayalrymen hating only at the COM
mand of the bugIe Brant confident