"How they do think of everythin'," remarked Loudon. "But if they guess we can't get away to-night they can guess again. I dunno what we'll do with Marvin. Yo're puttin' us to a heap o' trouble, you are, Mister Range-Boss. Say, while I think of it, have yuh branded anymore Crossed Dumbbell cows?"
Marvin was silent. The mocking voice continued:
"That was shore well thought of, Marvin, but yuh was whirlin' too wide a loop. Instead o' tryin' to make me out a rustler yuh'd ought to 'a' shot me in the back like yuh did the Sheriff o' Sunset."
"I didn't kill him," grunted the stung Marvin.
"I know yuh didn't. When I said you I meant yore outfit. Shorty Simms pulled the trigger."
"Nothin' to do with me."
"Maybe not. We'll see."
"Yuh can't prove nothin'."
"Keep on a-thinkin' so if it helps yuh any. Yuh'd ought to know, Marvin, that in any gang o' thieves there's always one squealer, sometimes two. In this case, one's enough, but we don't object to another."
"Oh, ——!" grunted Marvin. "Yuh give me a pain."