“Betcherlife. Say, ’ve you heard about the sheriff?”
“Who? Jack Flatray! Course I have. The Roaring Fork outfit ambushed him, beat him up, and made him hit the trail for town.”
“Aw! That ain’t news. He’s started back after them again. Left jes’ a little while ago. I saw him go—him ’n’ Farnum ’n’ Charley Hymer ’n’ Hal Yarnell ’n’ Mr. Bellamy.”
“Bet they git ’em.”
“Bet they don’t.”
“Aw, course they’ll git ’em, Tom.”
The other youngster assumed an air of mystery. He swelled his chest and strutted a step or two nearer. Urbane condescension oozed from him.
“Say, Jimmie. C’n you keep a secret?”
“Sure. Course I can.”
“Won’t ever snitch?”