"Well?"
"He intends to cinch Urbina, on Ricardo's and my testimony. You're a friend of Austin's; you'd better tip him to set his watch ahead a few hours and save himself a lot of trouble. The prosecuting attorney don't like Ed any too well. Understand?"
The judge pondered this suggestion for a moment. "'Young Ed' is a queer fellow. Once in a while he gets his neck bowed."
"So do I," Law declared, quietly. "He treated me like a hobo—sent me to the kitchen for a hand-out. That sticks. If I hadn't tamed down considerably these late years, I'd have—wound him up, right there."
From beneath his drooping lids Ellsworth regarded the Ranger curiously.
"You HAVE a bad temper, haven't you?"
"Rotten!"
"I know. You were a violent boy. I've often wondered how you were getting along. How do you feel when you're—that way?"
It was the younger man's turn to hesitate. "Well, I don't feel anything when I'm mad," he confessed. "I'm plumb crazy, I guess. But I feel plenty bad afterwards."
There was a flicker of the judge's eyelids.
Dave went on musingly: "I dare say it's inherited. They tell me my father was the same. He was—a killer."