Next morning there was a new constable, and only that
afternoon when Hale stepped into the Ludlow Brothers' store he
found the constable already busy. A line of men with revolver or
knife in sight was drawn up inside with their backs to Hale, and
beyond them he could see the new constable with a man under
arrest. Hale had not forgotten his promise to himself and he began
now:
"Come on," he called quietly, and when the men turned at the sound
of his voice, the constable, who was of sterner stuff than his
predecessor, pushed through them, dragging his man after him.
"Look here, boys," said Hale calmly. "Let's not have any row. Let
him go to the mayor's office. If he isn't guilty, the mayor will
let him go. If he is, the mayor will give him bond. I'll go on it
myself. But let's not have a row."
Now, to the mountain eye, Hale appeared no more than the ordinary
man, and even a close observer would have seen no more than that
his face was clean-cut and thoughtful, that his eye was blue and
singularly clear and fearless, and that he was calm with a
calmness that might come from anything else than stolidity of
temperament--and that, by the way, is the self-control which
counts most against the unruly passions of other men--but anybody
near Hale, at a time when excitement was high and a crisis was
imminent, would have felt the resultant of forces emanating from
him that were beyond analysis.
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