“There ain’t no use lying about it—it is,” he states.
“What I’d like to know is this,” states Ricky Henderson, “who was we shooting at? Was it Blazer or the Kid?”
“Neither one,” says I. “You was shooting at me. Danged fools try to take the law in their own hands and mess things up. Think the sheriff don’t know his business, and—gosh, I sure do hate a posse.”
We deposits the Kid and Blazer in jail, and then me and Magpie goes back to our shack. I puts on some water for coffee, and then turns to Magpie.
“Shall I make coffee like she did?” I asks.
Magpie lays his hat on the table.
“Ike, you make it according to the old formula. I’m sick for a cup of real coffee.” He smokes for a while and then——
“Ike, old-timer, we been a pair of fools.”
“Have been,” I agrees. “Lucky fools, Magpie. Luck in finding that trap-door: lucky that I didn’t give you ten whole minutes alone with her—him. You might ’a’ proposed, Magpie. Aw, yes, you would, old-timer, ’cause you was loco with love. Did yuh kiss her—him, Magpie?”
“No-o-o. I was going to, Ike—honest to gosh! But I sudden-like recognized that picture, which we deciphers to be her dear departed, and then I didn’t. Sabe?”