| CONTENTS | |
| I. | Wedding Night |
| II. | “Hanging is Too Good⸺” |
| III. | The New Sheriff |
| IV. | Range Funeral |
| V. | Hashknife and Sleepy |
| VI. | Hashknife Smells a Rat |
| VII. | City v. Range |
| VIII. | Clues |
| IX. | The Inquest |
The ranch-house of Uncle Hozie Wheeler’s Flying H outfit was ablaze withlight. Two lanterns were suspended on the wide veranda which almostencircled the rambling old house; lanterns were hanging from the corralfence, where already many saddle-horses and buggy teams were tied.Lanterns hung within the big stable and there was a lantern suspended tothe crosstree of the big estate.
It was a big night at the Flying H. One of the stalls in the stable waspiled full of a miscellaneous collection of empty five-gallon cans,cow-bells, shotguns; in fact, every kind of a noise-maker common to thecattle country was ready for the final words of the minister. For thiswas to be the biggest shivaree ever pulled off on the Tumbling Riverrange.
Inside the living-room was the assembled company, sitting stiffly aroundthe room, more than conscious of the fact that they were all dressed up.Old gray-bearded cattlemen, munching away at their tobacco; old ladies,dressed in all the finery at their limited command; cowboys