‘That’s right.’
Lem buckled on his belt, picked up his rifle, and led the way to the stable, where he saddled his horse.
‘What do yuh make of young Morgan, Hashknife?’
‘Good kid.’
‘Iggerant as hell, ain’t he?’
‘From our point of view, Lem.’
‘Uh-huh. I hope he ain’t to blame for them disappearin’.’
‘Pshaw!’ exploded Hashknife. ‘He’s square as a dollar, Lem. Why, he’s civilized.’
‘That’s the hell of it! If he was our kind, we’d know what to expect. Well, let’s hit the high spots, compadre.’
‘Speed won’t get us nowhere, Lem.’