"No," he said slowly, "I couldn't, and you must not."
"Do you promise?" he repeated to the helpless man. "Get up--stand up! Do you promise--will you swear?"
"Swear? Hell!" Jackson also rose as Woodhull staggered to his feet. "Ye knew this man orto kill ye, an' ye sneaked hit, didn't ye? Whar's yer gun?"
"There!" Woodhull nodded to the bog, over which no object now showed. "I'm helpless! I'll promise! I'll swear!"
"Then we'll not sound the No-quarter charge that you and I have heard the Spanish trumpets blow. You will remember the shoulder of a man who fought with you? You'll do what you can now--at any cost?"
"What cost?" demanded Woodhull thickly.
Banion's own white teeth showed as he smiled.
"What difference?" said he. "What odds?"
"That's hit!" Again Jackson cut in, inexorable. "Hit's no difference to him what he sw'ars, yit he'd bargain even now. Hit's about the gal!"