“You might talk to the sheriff,” says the judge.
“Talk ——!” grunts Hip-Shot. “Come on, Slow-Elk.”
They pilgrimed away and the rest of us sets down and rolls smokes.
“I just wants to know,” says Ace-High nervous-like, “I just wants to know if there is anybody here except me and Tombstone and the judge and Magpie and Ike? Five is maybe all that is here, but I feels that I’d like to be sure.”
“Much obliged, Ace-High,” says Tombstone. “You’ve got more nerve than I have. Is it or ain’t it?”
“Gents,” says Magpie, “meet Bosco, the wild man. Eats snakes.”
“I could love you, feller,” says Ace-High, “love you for being flesh and blood. Danged if I didn’t think my sins had began to react upon me.”
“Feeling so good I ain’t got the heart to chide you,” says Tombstone, “but if I was you—well, this is a he-man’s town, Bosco, and all that, but we’ve still got some of the finer feelings left, so I’d advise you to get some pants.”
When Slow-Elk and Hip-Shot shows up again, Hip-Shot bows low to us.
“Proceed with your circus,” says he. “All is well and good.”