Carl, having untangled himself from the barrel, brushed off his clothes and rubbed his sore spots, came bristling up to O'Grady.
"You vas grazy," he cried, "so grazy as I don'd know. Oof you hatn't fooled mit us, t'ings vould haf peen tifferent. Ve lose vone t'ousant tollars py vat you do! Yah, so helup me! Pud avay der gun und ged reasonaple."
"Huccome dat 'ar resolver change han's lak what Ah see?" inquired Uncle Tom, stepping gingerly around the corner of the hotel. "Didun' Ah do yo no good, mascottin' fo' yo', Motah Matt?"
Eliza and Topsy followed Uncle Tom, peering about them excitedly and evidently expecting to find Brisco a prisoner.
"Something went crossways, Uncle Tom," said Matt. "Brisco got away, and he took the stolen car with him. Mr. O'Grady, here, the proprietor of the hotel, didn't understand the case and helped the wrong side."
By that time O'Grady was himself beginning to think that he had made a mistake. The sight of the big red touring-car, and of the odd assortment of passengers who had arrived in it, afforded him food for thought. So he was thinking, lowering the revolver meanwhile and grabbing Ping, the Chinaman, by the queue to keep him from going after the marshal.
"Where did th' lot av yez come from?" O'Grady finally inquired.
"Ash Fork," replied Legree.
"Them colored folks come wid yez?"
"Yes."