“Can’t? Waal, you may git another rap on ther head that’ll keep it still!”
“It is a wonder to me that a ruffian of your stamp has hesitated at murder. Go ahead with your dirty work!”
“Oh, we ain’t goin’ ter kill ye! Not much! We’ve got somethin’ better fer ye! We’ve got somethin’ you’ll like—I don’t think!”
“That’s right,” laughed one of the others. “It’ll keep ye good an’ warm, an’ you’ll be a pretty picture.”
“So both Hookers are in this little business. Joe, if you follow in the tracks of your brother, I’ll guarantee you will land in prison. He’ll be there within a year.”
Joe Hooker followed his brother’s example and tore off his mask.
“I want ye ter know I’m in this business, too!” he snarled. “If ye swear to it afterward, your word’s no better’n ourn, and we’ll swear you lie.”
“Now,” said Merry, “if the rest of the fine gentlemen will kindly uncover, we’ll be able to talk this matter over face to face.”
But the remaining three ruffians declined to show their faces.
“They jest come erlong to see ther fun,” said the cowboy. “We’re goin’ ter do ther business. Eh, Joe?”