BOLLINGER. [Resuming his nag of JIM.] Know what he said?
JIM. [Pause. Chews and shakes head.] Don't care.
BOLLINGER. He said you give him the pony.
JIM. You hear him say so?
BOLLINGER. No, but the boys down Louisiana did; they knowed it was your pony, and they arrested him.
SARBER. [Again intruding.] Then they telegraphed you—
BOLLINGER. Hold on! [Growl from MOB.] They didn't know he was the train-robber—only thought he was a hoss thief—so they held him while they telegraphed you—[JIM nods. Pause.] That's the way we got on to him—the operator showed us the message—[Pause. JIM nods.] Showed us your answer, too. [Pause. JIM nods.] Here's a copy of it marked Exhibit B. "The man tells the truth. The pony is his'n.—Jim Radburn."
SARBER. And we saw the original.
JIM nods.
BOLLINGER. [His anger now lifting his tone into police court tirade.] While we were waiting up at the Court House where you told us to go—and I didn't have a durn thing but a butcher knife—you were a-standin' in with this feller and a-givin' him your boss to git away on.