"An' you-uns war hangin' 'em on s'picion, 'thout lettin' me know?"
"We never knows whar ter find ye, Muriel."
"That is nary excuse, fer ef you-uns had held them-uns a day I'd knowed it. It looks like you-uns war in a monstr'us hurry."
"It war he-uns," declared one of the black hoods, pointing to Miller. "He-uns war in ther hurry."
"We don't gener'ly waste much time in dinkerin' 'roun' with anybody we-uns thinks is revernues," said Miller.
"Wal, we ain't got ther record o' killin' innercent boys, an' we don't begin now. Take ther ropes off their necks."
Two men hastened to obey the order, while Miller sat and grated his teeth. As this was being done, Muriel asked:
"What war you-uns doin' with that revolver when I come? I heard ye shoot, an' I saw ther flash. Who did you-uns shoot at?"
Miller stammered and stuttered till Muriel repeated the question, his voice cold and hard, despite its boyish caliber.
"Wal," said Wade, reluctantly, "I'll have ter tell yer. I shot at he-uns," and he pointed at Frank.