CHAPTER XI
The dawn that broke over Two Moons following the events just narrated ushered in a day bulking large in the town's history. Even now when a frosty autumn night finds the old-timers assembled around the stove of the back room of Goteh's drug store—substitute rallying place in this day of the Great Drought—reminiscence inevitably swings back to that cardinal spot in the calendar of the past. Gnarled old range riders leap into heated arguments: Supposing Sheriff Red Agnew had done thus and so; what would have happened if Zang Whistler had not had a bullet hole through his shooting hand? Alas, the mutations of time! Modern Two Moons' old-timers review thus the high tides of romance in a golden age that has sped; the new generation goes down to the station to see the eight-four from Billings come in.
The early morning stage, in from Lost Sol-
