“Where’s the sheriff?” asked Moses Conley. “It seems to me that this is his affair.”
“Oh, that damn fool!” snorted a cowboy.
“This don’t require any law,” said Regan coldly.
“It shore don’t require the services of Judge Beal,” laughed another.
“Stop all that noise!” snapped Regan. “Do you want to tell him we’re comin’?”
“It seems to me it takes a lot of brave men to capture one half-breed,” said the old man bitterly.
“It takes twelve men to hang one,” retorted Cutter. “We want to make this thing legal.”
“Stop talkin’!” warned Regan again.
They opened the gate and rode through, following along the cottonwoods until they came in sight of the house. Cutter took four of the men with him and headed north, with the intention of blocking all chance of escape to the north and west, while Regan led the rest of the men straight toward the ranch-house, where they could block the way to the south.
Regan rode knee to knee with Moses Conley.