“Mr. Sheriff!” he called sharply.
“All right, Colonel!”
“Take your man into custody,” ordered Fentress. As he spoke he handed the warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and stepped toward Hues. He would have pushed the judge aside had not that gentleman, bowing civilly, made way for him.
“In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted authority I yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress,” he said, with a gracious gesture. “I would not place the slightest obstacle in the way of its sanctioned manifestation. Colonel Fentress comes here with that high sanction.” He bowed again ceremoniously to the colonel. “I repeat, I respect his dependence upon the law!” He whirled suddenly.
“Cavendish—Yancy—Carrington—I call upon you to arrest John Murrell! I do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a judge of the United States Federal Court. His crime—a mere trifle, my friends—passing counterfeit money! Colonel Fentress will inform you that this is a violation of the law which falls within my jurisdiction,” and he beamed blandly on Fentress.
“It's a lie!” cried the colonel.
“You'll answer for that later!” said the judge, with abrupt austerity of tone.
“For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice! Why, your name isn't Price!”
“Are you sure of that?” asked the judge quickly.
“You're an impostor! Your name is Turberville!”