(Takes off his coat, seizes poker from grate, and approaches safe.) Ha! some one is moving in the old man's room. (Approaches door of room R. as—
Enter noiselessly and cautiously from room L., PRITCHARD, SILKY, and SOAPY. PRITCHARD and his confederates approach OAKHURST from behind, carrying lariat, or slip-noose.
Oakhurst (listening at door R.) Good. At least I know from what quarter to expect the attack. Ah!
PRITCHARD throws slip-noose over OAKHURST from behind; OAKHURST puts his hand in his breast as the slip-noose is drawn across his bosom, pinioning one arm over his breast, and the other at his side. SILKY and SOAPY, directed by PRITCHARD, drag OAKHURST to chair facing front, and pinion his legs. PRITCHARD, C., regarding him.
Oakhurst (very coolly). You have left me my voice, I suppose, because it is useless.
Pritchard. That's so, pard. 'Twon't be no help to ye.
Oakhurst. Then you have killed Jackson.
Pritchard. Lord love ye, no! That ain't like us, pard! Jackson's tendin' door for us, and kinder lookin' out gin'rally for the boys. Thar's nothin' mean about Jackson.
Soapy. No! Jackson's a squar man. Eh, Silky?
Silky. Ez white a man ez they is, pard!