It was only in such easily established evil standards that Poker Flat ventured to sit in judgment. However, it is due to the sex to state that their impropriety was professional. I regret to say that some of these were ladies. This was done permanently regarding two men who were then hanging from the boughs of a sycamore in the gulch and temporarily, in the banishment of certain other objectionable characters.
A secret committee had determined to rid the town of all improper persons. It was experiencing a spasm of virtuous reaction, quite as lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked it. In point of fact, Poker Flat was “after somebody.” It had lately suffered the loss of several thousand dollars, two valuable horses, and a prominent citizen. “I reckon they’re after somebody,” he reflected “likely it’s me.” He returned to his pocket the handkerchief which he had been whipping away the red dust of Poker Flat from his neat boots and quietly discharged his mind of any further conjecture. Whether he was conscious of any predisposing cause was another question. Oakhurst’s calm, handsome face betrayed small concern in these indications.
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