“Get up!”
He kicked Rudabaugh into obedience, caught him by the collar when he stood, hated him so bitterly that he was much of the mind to shoot him even now. But at length his calmness came back to him as Hickok approached once more, McCoyne also pushing forward.
“Where am I going to keep this man?” demanded McMasters. It was McCoyne who answered.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “I certainly apologize. I might have known we’d need a jail, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to fix up a lot of things. Give me a day or so, and I’ll show you that Abilene has got the best jail in Kansas. I’ve been so busy——”
Wild Bill turned back to Len Hersey, who now had got out at the door.
“Go get your rope and help this officer,” said he. “Now go home, all of you.” He turned toward the crowd. “You’ve had enough to drink and you’ve got enough Fourth of July for one day.”
He grinned as he turned once more toward McMasters.
“If you should happen to take your friend out of town,” said he, “I don’t see how I could help myself. There don’t seem to be any courts here, or any place to hold a prisoner.”
Rudabaugh broke out in blasphemy.
“You damned outlaws, you cutthroats!” he began. “You can’t take me without any warrant, and you can’t hold me without process of law. I demand counsel. I’m going to have my trial. Is this America, I want to know?”