“Well,” said Mrs. Snow dubiously, as she brushed the tumbled hair from her forehead and took a deep breath, “well, I’ve done my darndest. If you won’t run—don’t mind me. Maybe you don’t realize what they mean to do to you.”
“Ma’am, I sure thank you a lot. If you want to bring that girl up here in about an hour, it might be kinda opportune.”
“I’ll bring her.”
Mrs. Snow went back to her team and climbed up on the wagon-seat.
“You fellers hang onto your necks until I get back.”
As she whirled her team around and drove swiftly back down the road, Hashknife turned and grinned at Sleepy and Skelton.
“Whatcha goin’ to do?” blurted Skelton. “Produce the old man and the girl?”
“They’re comin’ in a bunch this time,” observed Sleepy, “and we can’t out-smart the whole danged country.”
Hashknife squinted out at the tombstones and turned quickly to Skelton.
“You got any wire, Skelton?”