“Nothing but the truth,” he answered.
Her face still showed doubt.
“Lemme ask ye another question er two.”
“As many as you like.”
“Did you ever hear of a wuthless critter named Pete Sanborn?”
“I never did.”
“He used to run a little hash house down at Cinnabar, only he was too lazy to run it, and his wife done the work. He liked to gamble better than he did to work, and he’d ruther pick a man’s pockets than to git money in any other way.”
“A fellow to keep away from.”
“Well, he was. I knowed him to my sorrow. He done things lately a good deal wuss’n any of them things. I hope vigilantes will git him, and finish him.”
Her blackened and straggling teeth came together with a vindictive click.