"I reckon I wasn't 'fraid none. I done 'bout ever'thing in my time, but I draw the line at murderin' kids an' wimmen. Thet ain't in my line o' business!" Then adding, indifferently, "Go on with the proceedin's! Don't let me hender yo' none!"
Bill stepped closer to the man and looked intently into his face. "No," he said after a moment, "I guess you wasn't 'fraid!" Then he asked, "Was you ever in Juarez, Mister—er—Crowley?"
"Yes," answered Crowley, "but not recent, I wasn't."
"When?"
"Several times," said Crowley. "Th' las' time was when the' was a right smart o' trouble into Silver-Dollar Joe's place—consider'ble shootin' and such. Havin' the luck to git out with mostly a hull skin, 'cept in a few places, I never felt no call to go back."
"I thought so," said Bill. "Name wasn't 'Crowley' then, was it?" Crowley smiled and shook his head.
Bill walked over to Crowley and turned the man around, and taking out his knife, he cut the rope that bound his hands. Turning to Mr. Sherwood and the rest of the Bar O outfit, he said, "Gents, what I'm doin' is on my own responsibility. Ef the's any objections to it, I'm agreeable to givin' my reasons." He looked about him, and no one seemed to offer any objection.
"Go as fur 's yo' like, Bill," said one or two of the men; and Sherwood nodded.
Bill turned again to Crowley. "Yo' don't b'long to no such outfit as this here!" he said. "Yo' pick out yo'r gun an' Winchester out'n thet pile, an' get onto yo'r pinto an' see how fur yo' kin ride away from these vicinities 'fore sun-up."
Then turning to Mr. Sherwood, Bill said, "Boss, jes' lemme have forty dollars an' charge the same to me, ef you'll be so kind." Mr. Sherwood handed the money to Jordan, who passed it over to Crowley without a word. "Thanks," said the latter, "that's right, as I figger." "Yes," said Jordan, "that's the way I figger it too. Good-by an' good luck."