"Charley saw it," grunted Quigley.
"Charley be d—d!" snorted Ackerman. He looked closely at Quigley and suddenly demanded: "What makes you so set ag'in us shootin' him?"
Quigley regarded him evenly. "There was a lot of talk when Porter was found dead. I told you all at th' time. Four men have got curious, come up in these hills an' never went out again. Twin Buttes has a bad name; an' th' next dead man that's blamed on us is goin' to make a lot more talk an' may stir up trouble.
"Now then: Pop knows that Nelson's up here, an' that means that everybody knows it. He saw me reach for my gun, an' heard me tell him to keep out of here. An' let me tell you Pop knows more about us than he lets on; an' he's as venomous as a snake when he gets riled. An' he ain't th' only one that knows things.
"Now we'll add it up: If we can scare Nelson away, or discourage him, he'll quit of his own accord; an' he won't talk because he knows that somebody knows he's been rustlin'." He turned on his heel. "Am I plain enough?"
"Wait a minute," called Ackerman. "That feller has got me worried. Mebby it would be reckless to let him disappear up here; but suppose I go on a spree in town when he's there? It's easy to start a fight with a gunman, because he's got to toe th' mark. I can do th' job open an' above board, an' make it natural; an' that will keep us clear."
"Jim," smiled Quigley, "I don't want to lose you; an' if you pick a square fight with that man, th' even break that you demand in yore personal quarrels, we will lose you. I looked down his gun, an' I tell you that I didn't see him move. He's a gun man!"
Ackerman laughed. "We won't say anythin' about that. But if he did get th' worst of it in an even break an' a personal quarrel, would it hurt us up here? That's all I want to know."
Quigley thought deeply and made a slow and careful reply. "If it wasn't bungled I don't see how it could. You'd have to rile him subtle, make him declare war an' be th' injured party yoreself; an' you'd want witnesses. But don't you do it, Jim; not nohow. I got a feelin' that he's th' best man with a Colt in this section. Yo're a wizard with a six-gun; but you ain't good enough for him. When he's around yo're in th' little boy's class; an' I ain't meanin' no offense to you, neither."
Ackerman, hands on hips, stared at Quigley's back as he walked away. "Th' h—l you say!" he snorted wrathfully. "'Little boy's class,' huh?" He wheeled and turned a scowling face to his friend Fleming. "Did you hear that? I calls that rubbin' it in! I got a notion to take that feller's two guns away from him an' make Tom eat 'em! D—d if I don't, too! You ride to town with me an' I'll show you somethin' you won't never forget!"