How much longer Tarbush might have prattled on in his double capacity of officer and gossip remained uncertain. Miss Julia turned upon him, her large dark eyes flashing:
"Why do you bring her into it? She's just told me—they were only crossing the square—she was only trying to go home—she wasn't troubling anyone in all the world! Leave her out of it."
"I ain't got no choice in it," said Tarbush. "I'm serving the papers now. Miss Lane and the boy both comes. Not that I got any feeling in the matter."
"Why should you have?" asked Don Lane, with a cynical smile. "You've been letting that ruffian run this town every Saturday for years, they tell me, and you didn't dare call his bluff till you saw he was whipped. All right, we'll go. I'll see this thing through—but I want to tell you, you've started something that will be almighty hard to stop. You needn't think I'm going to let this thing drop here."
"Oh, now," began the man of authority, "I wish't you wouldn't feel thataway. I done my duty as I seen it. Didn't I take him to jail?"
"Yes, you did, after I had turned him over to you. But you took the wrong man at that."
"Who should I of took?"
"I don't know," laughed Don Lane bitterly. "All the town, I think. We'll see."
This was too cryptic for Joel Tarbush. Weakly he felt in his pocket for tobacco.
"Well," said he at length, "I done summonsed you."