“What are you talking about?”
“Get off your horse a minute,” suggested Whispering Smith, dismounting, “and step over here toward the creek.” The man, afraid to refuse and unwilling to go, walked haltingly after Smith.
“What is it, Rockstro?” asked his tormentor. “Don’t you like this country? What do you want to go back to the penitentiary for? Aren’t you 266 happy here? Now tell me one thing––will you give up the trail?”
“I don’t know the trail.”
“I believe you; we shouldn’t follow it anyway. Were you paid last night or this morning?”
“I ain’t seen a man hereabouts for a week.”
“Then you can’t tell me whether there were five men or six?”
“You’ve got one eye as good as mine, and one a whole lot better.”
“So it was fixed up for cash a week ago?”
“Everything is cash in this country.”