squarely, and drew himself up to his fullest height. His right
hand was seen to disappear under the frayed tails of his coat, it
reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker than the eye
could follow and a pistol shot rang out. One of the candles was
neatly snuffed.

The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the
loungers before the tavern. He was aware that a larger audience
was assembling. A slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips.
The remaining candle sputtered feebly. The judge walked to the
post and cleared the wick from tallow with his thumb-nail. There
was no haste in any of his movements; his was the deliberation of
conscious efficiency. Resuming his former station back of the
line he had drawn in the dusty road he permitted his eye to gauge
the distance afresh, then his hand was seen to pass deftly to his
left hip pocket, the long barrel of the rifle pistol was leveled,
the piece cracked, and the candle's yellow flame vanished.

The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with
never a glance toward the tavern reentered his house.

The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night
the judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the
court-house door; just below it was another sheet of paper
covered with bold script:


"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the
above was intended for him since he found it under his office
door on the morning of the twenty-fifth inst.