"There's something in that. The Law, as it stands, is all right."
"Mebby. But she don't stand any too steady when a poor man wants to fork her and ride out of trouble. He's got to have a morral full of grain to git her to stand—and even then she's like to pitch him if she gits a chanct. I figure she's a bronco that never was broke right."
"Well,"—and Owen smiled,—"we got pitched this time. We lost our case."
"You kind o' stepped up on the wrong side," laughed Pete.
"I don't know about that. Somebody killed Sam Brent."
"I reckon they did. But supposin'—'speakin' kind o' offhand'—that you had the fella—and say I was witness, and swore the fella killed Brent in self-defense—where would he git off?"
"That would depend entirely on his reputation—and yours."
"How about the reputation of the fella that was killed?"
"Well, it was Brent's reputation that got you off to-day, as much as your own. Brent was foreman for The Spider, which put him in bad from the start, and he was a much older man than you. He was the kind to do just what you said he did—try to hold you up and get The Spider's money. It was a mighty lucky thing for you that you managed to get that money to the bank before they got you. You were riding straight all right, only you were on the wrong side of the fence, and I guess you knew it."
"I sure did."