“Thank y’, little woman,” says the sheriff.
(Say! that was better.)
“He pulled his gun, they jerked it outen his hand”
But the cholos wasn’t a-foolin’–they was in dead earnest. Next minute, part of ’em grabbed Bergin, got that rope ’round him, and begun draggin’ him towards a telegraph pole.
I was some anxious, but I knowed enough to hole back a while more.
“Aw, boys,” begged the widda, droppin’ Willie and runnin’ ’longside, “don’t hurt him! don’t! What does the pigs matter?”
“I’ll discharge ev’ry one of you,” says the section-boss.
“Boys,” I begun again, “why should this gent want to harm this lady. Why, I can tell you––”