“And you won't send me to the pen?”
“No. I never meant to do that, of course. I was only trying to bluff you. All I ask is that you clear out, and give our people a chance to forget.”
“But what's there in that for me, Cotton? If I had wanted to run away, I could have done it any time during the last eight or ten weeks.”
“Yes, of course, but now it's different. Now it's a matter of my consideration.”
“Cut out the consideration!” exclaimed Hal. “You want to get rid of me, and you'd like to do it without trouble. But you can't—so forget it.”
The other was staring, puzzled. “You mean you expect to stay here?”
“I mean just that.”
“Young man, I've had enough of this! I've got no more time to play. I don't care who you are, I don't care about your threats. I'm the marshal of this camp, and I have the job of keeping order in it. I say you're going to get out!”
“But, Cotton,” said Hal, “this is an incorporated town! I have a right to walk on the streets—exactly as much right as you.”
“I'm not going to waste time arguing. I'm going to put you into an automobile and take you down to Pedro!”