"JAIL'S EMPTY, KANE!" The jail was small--merely one room with barred windows and an iron door, opening upon the street.

The iron door was supplemented with a wooden one, which halted the glances of the curious.

The windows were high, thus insuring further privacy; the hard adobe floor was clean, and the bunk in which Lawler lay when the dawn came was as comfortable as might have been expected.
Moreton had come in just before daylight, solicitous, concerned, eager to lessen the discomforts of his prisoner.

Back of the apology in his voice was a note of rage: "It goes ag'in' the grain to keep you here, Lawler," he said when he closed the door after entering; "but I'm goin' to bring this case to a showdown today, an' don't you forget it!" But the sheriff did not bring the case up that day.

A little later he provided Lawler with breakfast, and toward noon he opened the door to ask Lawler how he was getting along.