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THE CODE OF TEE HILLS
37
THE SHERIFF IS SUSPICIOUS
heredity in this plain man of fine old family ; while he was of to-day, in the common struggle for wealth and position, he was also of those who had deeply reverenced womankind and motherhood, while demanding in no uncertain tones "Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness as the inalienable right of man."
No longer the instrument of human law, the man bent knee before the divine agent, performer of the holiest mission on earth. He knelt before the suffering woman and gently drew one hand from her face to a warm clasp between both of his own
"Forgive me," he begged in husky tones; "I am your friend as of old. Above all obligations my first duty is that of man to woman."
She trembled with emotion and tried in vain to restrain what came from her heart to her eyes
"Will you count on me," he asked humbly, "as your one true friend?"
"Come what may !" she murmured.
"Come what may !" he echoed, then rose as if fully aware that his words carried grave significance. Straightening up, he continued in comforting tones, "There has always been a tie of sympathy between us, and I intend to see you vindicated in accord with or in spite of the salaried official position I occupy. Like most court offi
cers of self-respect, I am sick to death of seeing cold-blooded murderers, who are natural criminals and a menace to all that is fine in civilization, lionized in jail while awaiting trial, defended by legal talent of the highest order during trial, to say nothing of the support given by alienists when the criminal's shield is well gilded, and escaping punishment thru inadequate testimony or legal technicality. As an officer of the whole people, who believes they should be protected by preventive instead of penal measures, there are times when I prefer the Code of the Hills."
Jennie rose, her tear-dimmed eyes shining with a new light, and held plain Jim Schuyler's hand in a warm grasp of gratitude. Then they parted, understanding each other.
Silence was golden.
At the door he looked back.
Jennie was standing in the stream of sunlight which glorified her womanhood.
He faltered an instant — there was a tender smile playing about her lips and a soft light in her eyes — then he tore away, mounted his horse and headed up the mountain toward the point from which she had come. He struggled on, now on horse, now on foot and leading his animal, always watching for trace of what she might have done to avenge her husband's death — she had not gone up into the mountains with her rifle to pick flowers— but he found no trace of the murderer until he reached the Fester settlement.
Into that degenerate community, generally recognized as unfit for social freedom and parenthood, the sheriff rode boldly — the dissolute are always cowards — and there he obtained information pointing straight to a young man named Lee Hayes as principal in the murder of Anse Langdon, or as accessory before the fact thru inciting some confederate to commit the crime. Hayes, while drunk in the Fester gang, had related a story of a desperate struggle with Langdon in which he had been beaten and disarmed by the young moun