"'Who do you-all
think you're goin' to vote for?" asks Ormsby.
"'"Senior Monroe," says the Mexican, p'intin' at Old Monroe.
"'Stop this deal," yells Bronco Charlie, "'I challenges that vote.
Mexicans is barred."
"'Which Mexicans is not barred," replies Ormsby. "An' the vote of
this yere enlightened maverick from south of the Rio Grande goes.
Thirteen for Old Monroe."
"'Twelve for Old Monroe," remonstrates Bronco Charlie, feelin' for
his gun.
"'Thirteen for Old Monroe," retorts Ormsby, as his Colt's comes into
action an' he busts Bronco's arm at the elbow.
"'As his obstinacy has destroyed the further efficiency of my
colleague," goes on Ormsby, as he shakes down the ballots in the
nose-bag, "I'll now conduct these yere polls alone. Gents who
haven't voted will please come a-runnin'. As I states a moment ago,
she stands thirteen for Old Monroe."
"'An' I says she's twelve for Old Monroe," shouts Red River Tom,
crowdin' for'ard. "'You-all can't ring in Mexicans an' snake no play
on us. This yere 'lection's goin' to be on the squar', or it's goin'
to come off in the smoke."
"'With this, Red River, who's been sorter domineerin' at Ormsby with
his six-shooter while he's freein' his mind, slams her loose.
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