It's
jest then in comes the squar'-built gent, who's been postin' of the
notice former, an' p'ints a six-shooter at Gentry an' says
"'Put your hands up! put 'em up quick or I'll drill you! Old as you
be, I don't take no chances.'
"'At the first word Nell comes off her stool like a small landslide,
while Cherokee brings a gun into play on the instant. The old man's
up even with the proceedin's, too; an' stands thar, his gun in his
hand, his eyes a-glitterin' an' his white beard a-curlin' like a
cat's. He's clean strain.
"'Let me get a word in, gents,' says Cherokee, plenty ca'm, 'an'
don't no one set in his stack on. less he's got a hand. I does
business yere my way, an' I'm due to down the first hold-up who
shoots across any layout of mine. Don't make no mistake, or the next
census'll be shy, shore.'
"'What be you-alls aimin' to cel'brate anyhow?' says Jack Moore,
gettin' the squar'-built gent's gun while Boggs corrals Gentry's. '
Who's Wolfville entertainin' yere, I'd like for to know?'
"'I'm a Wells-Fargo detective,' says the squar'-built gent, 'an'
this yere,' p'intin' to Old Gentry, 'is Jim Yates, the biggest hold-
up an' stage-robber between hell an' 'Frisco.
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