"Still I feel like givin' it. Whar's the prizners?"
"They are safe," said Collins.
"Safe whar?"
"In my charge."
"But whar have you hid 'em?"
"Where a lot of drunken ruffians can do them no harm till they have had a fair trial," said Brill.
"Drunken ruffians!" retorted Badger, with a cool effrontery that won the admiration of his employer, "we ain't murderers at any rate. And if we did want to do for them two, that you've hid away in yer dugout, as I believe, it was to prevent others from doin' like 'em. When you are a savin' of them, you'd orter think of poor Tom Edwards, as is dead and buried."
"I started out to see that them two men had a fair trial," said Collins, stoutly, "and I'm goin' to do it. We've sent other messengers for that boy with the paper, and if he don't show up with it, why then, I'll be in for trial. But let me warn you fellers that there's men in this camp that means to see fair play, and if you don't like our way of doin' business, Badger, just step to one side and say so to me, and I'll give you all the chance you want to larn who's best man."
As Collins spoke he laid his hand on the stock of his pistol and there was a set to his firm lips and a light in his keen gray eyes that there was no mistaking.
Like all of his class, Badger was at heart a very great coward, and he proved it now.