"I 'm Ben Colton, if it 'll do ye any
good to know."
"I thought I had seen you somewhere before," said Brant,
contemptuously, and then swept his glance about the circle. "A nice
leader of vigilantes you are, a fine representative of law and order, a
lovely specimen of the free-born American citizen! Men, do you happen
to know what sort of a cur you are following in this affair?"
"Oh, Ben's all right."
"What ye got against him, young feller?"
"Just this," and Brant squarely fronted the man, his voice ringing like
steel. "I 've seen mobs before to-day, and I 've dealt with them. I
'm not afraid of you or your whole outfit, and I 've got fighting men
to back me up. I never yet saw any mob which was n't led and incited
by some cowardly, revengeful rascal. Honest men get mixed up in such
affairs, but they are invariably inflamed by some low-down sneak with
an axe to grind. I confess I don't know all about this Colton, but I
know enough to say he is an army deserter, a liar, a dive-keeper, a
gambler, and, to my certain knowledge, the direct cause of the death of
three men, one a soldier of my troop.
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