“You are blaming me for that?” queried Henry soberly.
“You deliberately turned the wrong way, Conroy. You forced the wagon over into the canyon.”
“Instead of going down there ourselves,” said Henry. “Yes, I did that, Mr. Pelly. You have admitted that your driver was traveling too fast for that dangerous road, and you must admit that he was crowding the outer edge, making it impossible for me to have stayed on that side. I have the evidence of your own words, spoken before witnesses. One word of accusation against me in your paper, and I shall sue you for criminal libel, my boy.”
James Wadsworth Longfellow Pelly looked around the room. Oscar Johnson, Slim Pickins, Frijole Cullison, Henry Conroy, Judge Van Treece, all looking at him.
“You can’t scare me,” he said weakly.
“Not any worse than you are now, Pelly,” assured Henry.
“It’s a wonder Professor Norbert and I were not killed, too,” said Pelly huskily.
“We can’t have everything our way,” sighed Judge.
Slim, Frijole and Oscar took the buckboard and headed for the JHC, while Henry and Judge went up to their room. It was almost morning. Henry’s face was scratched, his clothes badly torn. He took off his boots and sank down in a chair.