We-alls looks at Old Man Gentry, an' he shorely
seems to cripple down. "'Gentry,' says Peets, after Old Monte tells
his adventures, 'I hears you tell Nell you was sleepin' all day.
S'pose you takes this yere committee to your budwer an' exhibits to
us how it looks some.'
"'The turn's ag'in me,' says the old man, 'an' I lose. I'll cut it
short for you-alls. I holds up that stage this afternoon myse'f.'
"'This yere's straight goods, I takes it,' says Enright, 'an' our
dooty is plain. Go over to the corral an' get a lariat, Jack.'
"'Don't let Enright hang the old man, Cherokee,' says Nell,
beginnin' to weep a whole lot. 'Please don't let 'em hang him.'
"'This holdin' a gun on your friends ain't no picnic,' whispers
Cherokee to Nell, an' flushin' up an' then turnin' pale, 'but your
word goes with me, Nell.' Then Cherokee thinks a minute. 'Now, this
yere is the way we does,' he says at last. 'I'll make 'em a long
talk. You-all run over to the corral an' bring the best hoss you
sees saddled. I'll be talkin' when you comes back, an' you creep up
an' whisper to the old man to make a jump for the pony while I
covers the deal with my six-shooter. It's playin' it low on Enright
an' Doc Peets an' the rest, but I'll do it for you, Nell.
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