Waco and his friends slammed into the mob. As the coroner brought jurymen from the county seat, the verdict was foregone. Simpson and the others were not alone absolved from all blame, but highly commended for their service to the public. And there the matter ended.
The city marshal of Drumwell was not among the coroner's cases, nor anywhere around that town. Some said he was seen to cut a horse loose when Waco and his party appeared, and ride furiously southward. He never was seen in Drumwell, or that part of the country, again.
Kane hung around a few days, moping and sullen over his loss, threatening legal proceedings against Waco and the others for burning his property. But he had lost face with the county attorney, who saw that the old order in Drumwell was overthrown for good. Kane was told he had no legal recourse, having been engaged in an outlawed business. There was no protection under the law for a saloon keeper's property, as many another one learned years later when Carry Nation and her disciples went smashing and destroying liquor joints up and down the state.
Kane had money enough stacked away in other banks than that at Drumwell, which his business sagacity did not permit him to trust unduly, to start life over again without much worry. But his way was not a straight one, give him all the rope he wanted. He took his sad-eyed wife and baby girl away from Drumwell within a week after his fiery cleaning up, to follow the railroad camps in New Mexico.
Contrary to the expectations of everybody but himself, the lumberman made a slow recovery against odds that
