“Mebbe you can explain this here kidnapin’ and murder charge. Lonesome Lee’s daughter was stolen and old Lonesome was murdered. Anyway, that’s how she’s been told to me.”
“You’re —— right!” snapped Blue.
Hashknife looked at Blue, steadily and closely. Blue shifted nervously. He liked to be the center of interest, but not at a time like this.
Hashknife backed against the wall near the door, where he could include Jake Blue in his sweep of the crowd.
“Folks, this is kind of a long tale I’m goin’ to tell you, and I ask you to set tight. One crooked move and my pardner, who is just inside the door, will jam down the little handle and we’ll migrate together.”
“We’re listenin’,” said one of the men.
“Why listen to him!” exploded Easton angrily. “We didn’t come down here to listen to a lot of —— lies, did we?”
“Stuff your fingers in your ears then!” retorted the cowboy who had pulled his horse off the spaded spot. “I sure as —— am willin’ to listen. I know dinnymite, y’betcha.”
“’Pears to me that the whole thing started over the graveyard,” observed Hashknife slowly. “Somebody played a joke on Skelton, and he returned the compliment.”
One of the men swore feelingly, and a growl came from several more. They agreed on this point, at least.