“Since yu want to know, I’ll tell yu, all right,” replied Tex. “Why are yu an’ Th’ Orphant so d––d thick? Don’t be all day about it?”
“You d––d excuse!” responded the sheriff. “You mere accident! As the poet said, it’s none of your business! Catch that?”
“Yes, I caught it,” retorted Tex. “I reckon we needs a new sheriff, an’ d––d soon, too,” he added venomously.
“Well, people don’t always get what they need,” replied Shields easily. “If they did, you would get yours right now, and good and hard, too,” he explained, making ready to put up the hardest fight of his life. Three men had him covered, and he knew they would all shoot if he made a move, for they had placed themselves in a desperate situation and could not back out now. He knew that never before had he been in so tight a hole, but he trusted to luck and his own quickness to crawl out with a whole skin. If he was killed, he would have company across the Great Divide; of that he was certain.
“I reckon I’ll take yore guns for a while, just to be doin’ somethin’,” Tex said as he advanced a step. “Mebby that itch will go away then.”
“I reckon you’ll be a d––n sight wiser if you don’t force matters, for they are purty well forced now,” Shields replied. “No man gets my guns’ butts first without getting all mussed up inside. You’ll certainly be doing something if you try it.”
“Well, then,” compromised Tex, “answer my question!”
“And no man gets an answer to a question like that in words,” the sheriff continued, as if there had been no interruption. “But I’ll give you and your white-faced bums a chance for your lives–and I don’t wonder The Orphan shot up Jimmy, neither. Put up your wobbling guns and get out of this country as fast as God will let you! If you ever come back I’ll fill you plumb full of lead! It’s your move, Lovely Face, and the quicker you do it the better it’ll be for your health.”
