“What’s a few broken arms and legs compared to that prospect?” he queried gently. His eyelids dropped farther, and in a moment he was asleep again. The four men tiptoed out. Trowbridge stopped at the door and looked back on the tousled hair and tranquil face of the flyer.
“I think I’ll get to understand a lot of things better down here if the border continues like this,” said the commanding officer.
The Sheriff closed the door gently.
“Well,” he drawled, “it is a fine place to git a valuation on real hombres.”