He shoved the tendered weapons into his waistband.
“Will you two come peaceable er do I put the ’cuffs on yuh?”
“Yuh mean we’re arrested?” gasped Shorty.
“Yuh don’t think fer a minute that you trouble hunters kin come into my town, bust out windows and raise —— in general, and not see the inside uh my jail, do yuh?”
Shorty turned a sorrowful gaze on his big partner.
“Kin yuh beat it, Tad? Kin yuh ever tie it? Looks like it’s ag’in the law tuh trim down oxes like that bohunk settin’ yonder, a-feelin’ his sore spots. Down home there’s a bounty on ’em.”
“But we’re a long ways from home, runt. And as the sayin’ goes, we has fell among strangers. Montana ain’t Arizona and our footin’ ain’t so —— solid as she might be.”
“But dang it all, Sheriff,” pleaded Shorty, “the low-down skunk was blackguardin’ my Skewball pony. The best hoss, barrin’ none, that ever packed a cow hand. Yuh seen him outside? Bald-faced black with stockin’ legs? The fastest cow pony north uh —— is Skewball, and I ain’t aimin’ tuh have no quartz-clawin’ pick-rassler hoo-rawin’ me regardin’ him! I’ll gouge his eyes outa him an’——”
Tad’s restraining hand kept Shorty from renewing the fight. The crowd surged forward angrily.
“Easy, runt,” cautioned Tad. “Yuh won yore fight. We’re plumb overmatched.”