Buck interrupted her explanation. "Then let him tell his friend's name, and where we can find him." Turning to Jack, he bullied: "Come on—what's his name?"
Jack closed his eyes to shut out the sight of his wife. In his agony he clenched his fists, until his nails sank into the flesh. "I can't tell you that," he cried, in misery.
"Of course he can't," sneered Buck, smiling evilly in his triumph.
"He can't account for himself on the night of the weddin'; he rides a pacin' horse—rode on that night; he gets three thousan' dollars paid him, and he can't tell who paid it; what's the verdict?" Buck did not wait for an answer. Raising his voice, he shouted: "Guilty."
"Damn you," bellowed Sage-brush, lunging toward him, only to be held in restraint by his associates.
"Jack! Jack! what have you to say?" begged Echo.
"Nothing," was his only answer.
"Tell him he lies!" cried Sage-brush. "Jack, we all know you—you're as white a man as ever lived, an' they ain't one of this outfit that ain't ready to die for you right now—"
"You bet!" chorused his men.
"He ain't goin' to get off like that," declared Buck. Looking confidently at his own followers, he said: "The Lazy K can take care of him."