“Yo're a cheerful liar, you are,” laughed Barr. “But can you ride?”
“Reckon so, but I ain't a-going to.”
“Why, we both can go—it's a cinch!” Barr cried. “Come on!”
“Lord!—an' I never even thought of that! Reckon I was too mad,” Johnny replied. “But I sort of hates to leave Jackson an' Edwards,” he added, sullenly.
“But they're gone! You can't do them no good by staying.”
“Yes; I know. An' how about Lacey chipping in on our fight?” demanded Johnny. “I ain't a-going to leave him to take it all. You go, Barr; it wasn't yore fight, nohow. You didn't even know what you was fighting for!”
“Huh! When anybody shoots at me it's my fight, all right,” replied Barr, seating himself on the floor behind the breastwork. “I forgot all about Lacey,” he apologized. At that instant a tomato can went spang! and fell off the shelf. “An' it's too late, anyhow; they ain't a-going to let nobody else get away on that side.”
“An' they're tuning up again, too,” Johnny replied, preparing for trouble. “Look out for a rush, Barr.”