"I dunno." Dick shook his grey head mournful. "I forget. I had to exceed my authority a whole lot, so the first thing I thought of was 'bigamy and confusion of mind.' I reckon I'll have to apologise, and he's a low-flung crawler to beg pardon to."
"You'll have to let him out?"
"I shorely will; meanwhile he's thinking of all his sins, and he certainly looks like a Mormon. He never combs his ha'r. But then, you see, I had to keep his paws off these honourable ladies until I could bring some sort of warning heah. Besides if this pusson with a wig is really pore Curly McCalmont, I feel that I done right."
"What makes you think that, Bryant?"
"Wall, I happen to know that them witnesses in the Ryan inquest here was bribed to swear away the life of old Balshannon's son. The hull blamed business stinks of perjury. I may be wrong, you one-eyed fraud, but when Curly punched cows with you at Holy Crawss I sort of hungered for him. You see, my missus and me couldn't compass a son of our own, and we just wanted Curly. When he quit out from you-all, we tried to catch him, but he broke away. Then came the big shooting-match, six weeks ago, and it broke my ole woman's heart. Thar was the lady gawn daid, and Balshannon quits out in the gun smoke, and you and the two youngsters outlawed for trying to save him. That's how I reads the signs on this big war-trail, and being only a crazy old plainsman, I takes the weaker side."
He reached out his paw.
"Put her thar, you one-eyed hoss-thief, and you'll know that there's one official in this hull corrupt and filthy outfit who cares for justice more'n he cares for law."
With warrants out against me on various charges, and the Grave City Stranglers yearning to make me a corpse, I had come on this visit feeling plenty bashful, so it was good to have a genuine county sheriff acting chaperon. The ladies gave us a great sufficiency of supper, and then we made Curly swear faithfully not to go hunting wigs in the moonlit streets. Afterwards the ladies went to roost, and we two men, having tracked out to tend the horses, made down our beds in the barn loft.
Next morning my natural modesty, and certain remarks from the sheriff, made me hide up out of sight, but Bryant went to town and did my shopping. He bought me an iron-grey gelding, which I'd always longed to steal, because he was much too good for the tenderfoot doctor who owned him. It shocked my frugal mind to pay a hundred dollars cash, but Bryant was liberal with my money, and the horse was worth a hundred and fifty, anyhow. He got me a second-handed saddle, snaffle, rope, blanket, a dandy pair of shaps (leather armour for the legs), spurs, belt, shirt, overalls, boots, sombrero, and all cowboy fixings. If I was to take young Curly back to Robbers' Roost, she needed a proper trousseau, specially being due to meet Jim.
I hate to put up dull particulars, but I ought to mention that Mutiny Robertson had located a good showing of silver, the second east extension of the Contention Mine, on my land at Las Salinas. That is why for he put up six thousand dollars cash for my water-spring, fencing, and adobe house, getting clear title to the land which held his mineral rights. It grieves me to think of Mutiny grabbing all his present wealth because I couldn't hold down that place without being lynched. Such is the fruits of getting unpopular, and I might preach a plenty improving sermon on the uncertainties of business, the immorality of being found out, the depravity of things in general, the cussedness of fate. Mutiny waited sly, while I plunged around conspicuous, so now he's rich, setting a good example, while I'm as poor as a fox.