"'Throw up your hands' says this yere marshal.
"His tone shows he's ennuied; he has so many of these yere blazers
to run; that's why he's careless, mebby. When the party throws up
his hands, he is careful an knocks the marshal's gun one side with
his left hand, bein' he's too close as I says, at the same time
pullin' his own wherewith he then sends that marshal to the happy
huntin' grounds in one motion. Before ever that Gunnison offishul
gets it outen his head that that sport's holdin' up his hands, he's
receivin' notice on high to hustle 'round an' find his harp an'
stand in on the eternal chorus for all he's worth.
"'Which the public,' says Jack Moore, the time he relates about this
yere Gunnison marshal bein over-played that time, 'takes an' hangs
the killer in a minute. An' he's shorely a bad man.
"'Does you-all want to pray?" says one of the gents who's stringin'
of him.
"'No, Ed," he says that a-way, "prayin's a blind trail to my eyes
an' I can't run it a inch."
"'"What for a racket," says this yere Ed, "would it be to pick out a
sport to pray for you a whole lot; sorter play your hand?"
"'"That's all right," says this culprit. "Nominate your sharp an'
tell him to wade in an' roll his game.
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