“Why didn’t you pinch him?” Jubal Crassman asked, disgustedly. “You could have caught him if you’d wanted to.”
“Maybe he didn’t wanna,” another said.
“Yeah,” a third taunted. “I guess the Ranger ain’t too keen about ketchin’ up with old Poley. Poley might not be as nice as he was that night in the dance hall.”
“The show’s over, boys,” John said quietly. “You can go home.”
He walked back to the Ranger’s headquarters, went in, and lit the lamp. Then he sat down at the table and cupped his chin in his hands. He had conducted the affairs of the Rasca as he thought best. And, in so doing, he knew that Pine Hill had judged him guilty and condemned him.
The next morning a forestry truck came with the pine seedlings. The little trees were in bunches, with wet moss and mud about the roots. Joh
