BILL WATSON The sheriff of Ellisville sat in his office oiling the machinery of the law; which is to say, cleaning his revolver.

There was not yet any courthouse.

The sheriff was the law.

Twelve new mounds on the hillside back of the Cottage Hotel showed how faithfully he had executed his duties as judge and jury since he had taken up his office at the beginning of the "cow boom" of Ellisville.

His right hand had found somewhat to do, and he had done it with his might.
Ellisville was near the zenith of its bad eminence.