"Is that so? What for?"
"Oh, I d'n' know!—he'd been singing the music to 'em. Sam's too broncho;[18] he gets all-fired mean[19] sometimes when he's full."
"There ain't a drop of mean blood in him," denied Squito flatly.
The teamster shrugged his shoulders.
"Anyhow, Doc Gilpen the Marshal jumped him.[20] I was right there when they met. 'Sam,' he says, 'you've made one or two bad breaks since you've been in town. Next time you ring, I'm coming for you—and going to get you, too.' 'What's the matter with your getting me now?' asked Sam. And they both stood with their hands on their six-shooters—so—watching one another like strange Indians. 'I don't want you now.' 'Well, that'll be all right! You can find me whenever you do; and you'll find me heeled,[21] too, you bet your sweet life!' says Sam. For a minute or two they stood looking at one another, and then Doc 'pulled out.'[22] Right opposite Lindauer's store it was. I thought there was going to be a shooting, sure. And it wanted powerful little to set 'em going now, and don't you forget it!"
"Doc would get away with him," said Joe.
"Would he!" ejaculated Squito hotly.
"Yes. He's got all Sam's sand,[23] and is cooler."