Cowboys were trooping in from long rides, others were setting out for their distant ranches. All was astir with a picturesque life that transformed the poor streets, and turned the plank "palaces" and "casinos" into places of romance and mystery.
"Yes, sir, this was a purty decent town till about two weeks ago, a place where every man got a square deal and a show for his money, but it ain't that way any more."
"What happened to change it, sir, if I may ask?"
"Oh, we had a 'lection."
"Sure enough you did; I just bet you did!"
"We put that feller—well, I didn't have no hand in it—Mackey in for mayor, and a wall-eyed lightheel in for marshal, turned Dee Winch out to give him the job, and them two they've shut up everything in town they ain't got a hand in or a rakeoff on of some kind."
"You could expect it of Mackey, sir. He's a houn'-dog from the rattlesnake hills by the look he wears in his face."
"It's all cow trade in this place, for Cottonwood's a cow town, and you know what it takes to draw cowboys and that kind. It takes noise and show and fiddlin' and singin'. Up to a week ago we had two big dance halls, Jud Springer's and Mackey's. Both of 'em had bands fiddlin' till the mayor up and ordered the aldermen to pass a law forbiddin'
