“Lemme alone, you man-chasers!” he yelped. “I was tough for an hour or so, but I’m sure tender now.”
“Talks like a cowpuncher,” said Eskimo gravely.
“Looks like a cowpuncher,” added Johnny.
“Fights like one,” groaned Dug Haley. “When yuh get through throwin’ bouquets, I wish you’d take me to a doctor.”
Hashknife grinned at the wreck of what had been James Eaton Legg, the bookkeeper, and nodded solemnly.
“I reckon we’ll be able to tell Leesom and Brand that Jimmy Legg has qualified,” he said earnestly.
“And if I was Jimmy Legg, I’d put on some clothes,” said Sleepy. “Cowboy, yo’re a fright.”
Jimmy grinned, started toward the house, followed by Marion. But Jimmy shoved her ahead of him, because he just remembered that he had slid half-way down Broken Cañon, sitting down. Tex looked after them, a half-smile on his face, as he turned to Hashknife.
The posse was putting the bodies in the ranch wagon, and two of the men were assisting the sheriff, who had put Dug Haley on the wagon-seat, and was helping the dazed lawyer to mount his sway-backed horse. The handcuffs bothered Barnhardt, and he was breathing like an asthmatic.
“You don’t act very sore about it,” said Hashknife, nodding toward where Marion and Jimmy were disappearing into the house.