"I'm doin' my duty," he said, sullenly.
"Gentlemen all, I'd like some show in this," pleaded Loudon. "Just gimme back my gun, an' me an' Block'll shoot it out."
"Wait a shake," said Scotty, sliding between Loudon and Block. "Let me get the straight of this. You accuse Loudon here of brandin' 88 cattle?"
"Shore," insisted the stubborn Block, "an' he stole that chestnut hoss he's ridin', too. Just look at the 88 brand. It's plain as day."
"Suh," burst out Burr, "I happened to be at the 88 ranch the day my friend Tom Loudon bought that chestnut hoss. I saw him pay Blakely. Everybody in Fo't Creek County knows that Tom Loudon has owned that hoss fo' upwa'ds of a yeah. You know it, you rascal! Don't attempt to deny it!"
To this sweeping assertion Block made no reply.
"I guess now that settles half the cat-hop," said Scotty. "The other half I know somethin' about myself. Jack Richie o' the Cross-in-a-box told me. It was thisaway——"
And Scotty related the tale of Marvin and Rudd and the Crossed Dumbbell cow and calf.
"Now what yuh got to say?" Scotty demanded of Block when the story was told.
"What can I do?" snapped Block. "It's a whole town agin' one man. I'll get a warrant, an' yuh can gamble on that. If I thought I'd get a square deal, I'd admire to shoot it out."