"And you a robber!" says Jim, mighty scornful. Jim had only courage, a thing which is usual to all sorts of men and beasts, but Curly had something bigger—brains, judgment, the lion heart, the eagle sight, the woman gentleness, a child's own innocence, and heaven's unselfishness.
"I'm a sure coward," he sobbed.
"Brace up, youngster. I saw you kill both Beef and Louisiana, but now you're gone all rotten."
"Between the eyes, I got Pete between the eyes! I seen his eyes goin' up all white—the hole between—oh, how I wisht I was daid!"
"Poor little beggar! And one would think this was the first time you'd ever seen a gun-fight."
"I never seen one, never until now."
"And you McCalmont's son!"
"You needn't let on to him that y'u seen me—human. Wall," he braced himself up, "I'm only a range wolf, so what's the odds, Jim?"
"Well, what's wrong now?"
"Do you know you're outlawed too? Old Chalkeye masked his riders, he played robbers, I showed wolf, and you're done branded with the range wolves now."