"They sure are; but what are you going to do about it?"
"Just about the same as the rest; get out of the country as soon as I can. Isn't that what you're going to do?"
"I guess so—after I've made my pile!"
"Well, if you get away with a pile, I reckon you'll have to make two: one for yourself and one for the grafters."
"There may be a change."
"You must have been listening to the fellow down at the Borealis the other night."
"Perhaps I was," said Long Shorty significantly.
"And you think those fellows will ever do more than talk?"
"Well, you know how many police there are, and how many there are of the others. The police are armed with old Winchesters, twenty years behind the times! Looks like the insurrectoes might have a chance if they got together and had ammunition and rifles."
"There are lots of both among the crowd, I guess. I have a 303 and a thousand cartridges; that is, five shots for every policeman in the country." He spoke with some bitterness.