Morrissy turned over and sat up, rubbing his head. Presently he pulled himself to his feet. He was dazed. Recollection of what had happened returned to him. This dude had knocked him out.
"You'll pay well for that," he said.
"Sit down. It's only a marker for what I'll do to you if you make another move. Now, McQuade, which is it?"
"Go ahead and write your letter," McQuade snarled.
Warrington proceeded.
"Now sign it," he said. "Here, John, take care of this carbon. Bolles, your signature." Bolles scrawled a shaking hand. Warrington put the paper in his pocket. "Bite, both of you now, if you dare."
"I'll trouble you for that carbon," said McQuade.
"Hardly. But you have my word of honor that it shall not be used against you unless you force me. It will repose in my deposit box at the bank. But as for you, Morrissy, this climate doesn't suit your abilities. The field is too small. Take my advice and clear out. That is all, gentlemen. Come, John."
When they were gone Morrissy turned savagely upon McQuade.
"I told you you were a damn fool!"