"Dead or alive?"
"No, alive."
"And if I won't go?" asked Morse.
"Oh, you'll go." The officer's bearing radiated a quiet, imperturbable confidence. His hand was still extended, "If you please."
"No hurry. Do you know what you're up against? When I draw this gun I can put a bullet through your head and ride away?"
"Yes."
"Unless, of course, you plug me first."
"Can't do that. Against the regulations."
"Much obliged for that information. You've got only a dead man's chance then—if I show fight."
"Better not. Game hardly worth the candle. My pals would run you down," the constable advised coolly.