The sheriff settled back; he had forgotten his rush of business.
"As I understand it, you, Mr. McGuire, have the reputation of keeping your county clean of crime and scenes of violence."
"Huh!" grunted the sheriff.
"Everyone says," went on Waters, "that no one except a man named Minter has done such work in meeting the criminal element on their own ground. You have kept your county peaceful. I believe that is true?"
"Huh," repeated McGuire. "Kind of soft-soapy, but it ain't all wrong. They ain't been much doing in these parts since I started to clean things up."
"Until recently," suggested Waters.
The face of the sheriff darkened. "Well?" he asked aggressively.
"And then two crimes in a row. First, a gun brawl in broad daylight— young Hollis shot a fellow named—er—"
"Larrimer," snapped the sheriff viciously. "It was a square fight.
Larrimer forced the scrap."
"I suppose so. Nevertheless, it was a gunfight. And next, two men raid the bank in the middle of your town, and in spite of you and of special guards, blow the door off a safe and gut the safe of its contents. Am I right?"