“I say yes,” said Hill swiftly. Thomas, of less stern stuff, wavered.
“Well, let’s wait awhile. Let’s don’t be too quick. Courtrey now, he’s mighty quick an’ hot. They ain’t no tellin’–––”
“All right,” said Jameson promptly, “suit yourself––we ain’t a-pressin’ no man into this.”
“Why, now, I’m fer it, boys––that is, I’m believin’ it’s got t’ be done, only I counsels time.”
“No time,” cried Hill, “we ben counselin’ time an’ quiet an’ not doin’ anything to stir ’em up, an’ what d’ we get? Cattle stole every spring, waterholes taken an’ fenced fer Courtrey’s stock right on th’ open range, hogs drove off, fences tore down, like pore old John Dement’s an’ some of us left t’ rot every year in some coulee. We done waited a sight too long. Courtrey thinks he owns Lost Valley, an’ he comes near doin’ it, what with his hired killers, Wylackie an’ Black Bart an’ this new gun man that’s just come in. I heered today he’s from Arizona, an’ imported article.”
Jameson turned to him and held out his hand. 71
“I’m goin’ to ride tomorrow,” he said.
Hill grasped the extended hand and looked hard in the other’s eyes.
“Me, too,” he said.
Thomas, still of the timid, doubting heart, watched them with a hand over his mouth to hide its shaking.