Sandy. No, no: you shall not go!
Starbottle. Who will prevent me?
Sandy (grappling him). I will. (Appealingly.) Look yer, stranger, don't provoke me, I, a desperate man, desperate and crazed with drink,—don't ye, don't ye do it! For God's sake, take your hands off me! Ye don't know what ye do. Ah! (Wildly, holding STARBOTTLE firmly, and forcing him backward to precipice beyond ledge of rocks.) Hear me. Three years ago, in a moment like this, I dragged a man—my friend—to this precipice. I—I—no! no!—don't anger me now! (Sandy's grip on STARBOTTLE relaxes slightly, and his head droops.)
Starbottle (coolly). Permit me to remark, sir, that any reminiscence of your—er—friend—or any other man is—er—at this moment, irrelevant and impertinent. Permit me to point out the—er—fact, sir, that your hand is pressing heavily, demned heavily, on my shoulder.
Sandy (fiercely). You shall not go!
Starbottle (fiercely). Shall not?
Struggle. STARBOTTLE draws derringer from his breast-pocket, and SANDY seizes his arm. In this position both parties struggle to ledge of rocks, and COL. STARBOTTLE is forced partly over.
Miss Mary (opening schoolhouse door). I thought I heard voices. (Looking toward ledge of rocks, where COL. STARBOTTLE and SANDY are partly hidden by trees. Both men relax grasp of each other at MISS MARY'S voice.)
Col. Starbottle (aloud and with voice slightly raised, to SANDY). By—er—leaning over this way a moment, a single moment, you will—er—perceive the trail I speak of. It follows the canyon to the right. It will bring you to—er—the settlement in an hour. (To MISS MARY, as if observing her for the first time.) I believe I am—er—right; but, being—er—more familiar with the locality, you can direct the gentleman better.
SANDY slowly sinks on his knees beside rock, with his face averted from schoolhouse, as COL. STARBOTTLE disengages himself, and advances jauntily and gallantly to schoolhouse.