"This ain't your affair. You step aside an' let justice—"
"If those that holler for justice loudest had it done to them there would be a lot of squealin' outside of hogpens."
"You won't take that offer, then?"
"Not this year of our Lord, thank you."
"You've had your chance. If you turn it down you're liable to go out of here feet first."
Not a muscle twitched in the lean, brown face of the young cowpuncher.
"Cut loose whenever you're ready."
"Hold yore hawsses, friend," advised the ex-guerrilla, not unkindly.
"There's no occasion whatever for you to run on the rope. We are six to
two, countin' the kid, who's got about all he can carry for one day.
We're here askin' questions, an' it's reasonable for you to answer 'em."
"I have answered 'em. I'll answer all you want to ask. But I'd think you would feel cheap to come kickin' about that fight. My friend fought fair. You know best whether your friends did. He took 'em at odds of two to one, an' at that one of your gunmen hunted cover. What's troublin you, anyhow? Didn't you have all the breaks? Do you want an open an' shut cinch?"
"You're quite a lawyer," replied Dumont, the man who found the climate of Texas unhealthy. "I reckon it would take a good one to talk himself out of the hole you're in."
Billie looked at the man and Dumont decided that he did not have a speaking part in the scene. He was willing to remain one of the mob. In point of fact, after what he had seen in the last few minutes, he was not at all anxious to force the issue to actual battle. A good strong bluff would suit him a great deal better. Even odds of six to two were not good enough considering the demonstration he had witnessed.