“I was jest about startin’ one of them mutual protective, benefit and literary sassieties,” suggested Joe tactfully as a feeler, while his comrades grinned.
“Don’t want to hear about it,” retorted Bud, divining the intention. “You can do anything you like with me, but don’t tell me your bargains. I’ve got troubles enough with my sheep without signing on any more. Now, look here, men, I don’t want to interfere with you, and it only wastes your time to bother with me. Suppose you let me go about my business and you go about yours.”
“Swear on oath never to recognize or bear witness against us?”
“No. What kind of a crook do you think I am? If I were put under oath by a sheriff, I would have to accuse you, and I’d do it.” 73
Joe Parker’s face lost its expression of genial amiability and he looked about on a circle of dark countenances.
“I’m plumb sorry you act this-a-way,” he said aggrievedly. “Boys, where’s the nearest tree?”
“Ten miles.”
“After dinner everybody saddle up,” came the order.