"Why, even the old cripple Jansen went on this stampede."
"Can't help that."
"Mr. Butts, you're the only able-bodied white man in the district that stayed at home." Corey spoke in his, most judicial style.
Mr. Butts must have felt the full significance of so suspicious a fact, but all he said was:
"Y' ought to fix up a notice. Anybody that don't join a stampede will be held guilty o' grand larceny." Saying this Butts had backed a step behind the stove-pipe, and with incredible quickness had pulled out a revolver. But before he had brought it into range, No-Thumb-Jack had struck his arm down, and two or three had sprung at the weapon and wrested it away.
"Search him!"
"No tellin' what else he's got!"
"——and he's so damned handy!"
"Search him!"
Maudie pressed forward as the pinioned man's pockets were turned out. Only tobacco, a small buckskin bag with less than four ounces of dust, a pipe, and a knife.