“Yes; set ’em up, Snakes,” said Morris, thickly. “I don’t vant snakes now, but I’ll get ’em soon enough.”
Dan and Mike had now wearied of the nonsense, and went to the table farthest from the bar and sat down. Shoshone looked at Morris a moment and said:
“Say, pardner, you can’t fool me. I know you. Don’t come around here trying to play the innocent on us. You are Alkali Ike from the Bad Lands.”
“Alcohol Ike—I don’t——”
“Yes, I remember when you killed those six men, shot a Mexican and stole their horses and cattle!”
“Oh, yes; oh, yes—oh, vot a liar!”
“Yes, you did—you did—you know you did!”
“Oh, yes,” said Morris, seeing that he was expected to agree to everything the man said; “but don’t say it so loud. Dem oders might pelief it.”
“And you know you stole that ranchman’s wife and took her to Cheyenne.”
“I—I—stole a man’s vife. Vich von?”