“Shore I 'ain't got so far as thet. What d' ye mean, Snake?”
“Damme if I savvy,” was the gloomy reply. “I only know what was bad looks growin' wuss. Last fall—an' winter—an' now it's near April. We've got no outfit to make a long stand in the woods.... Jim, jest how strong is thet Beasley down in the settlements?”
“I've a hunch he ain't half as strong as he bluffs.”
“Me, too. I got thet idee yesterday. He was scared of the kid—when she fired up an' sent thet hot-shot about her cowboy sweetheart killin' him. He'll do it, Jim. I seen that Carmichael at Magdalena some years ago. Then he was only a youngster. But, whew! Mebbe he wasn't bad after toyin' with a little red liquor.”
“Shore. He was from Texas, she said.”
“Jim, I savvied your feelin's was hurt—by thet talk about Texas—an' when she up an' asked you.”
Wilson had no rejoinder for this remark.
“Wal, Lord knows, I ain't wonderin'. You wasn't a hunted outlaw all your life. An' neither was I.... Wilson, I never was keen on this girl deal—now, was I?”
“I reckon it's honest to say no to thet,” replied Wilson. “But it's done. Beasley 'll get plugged sooner or later. Thet won't help us any. Chasin' sheep-herders out of the country an' stealin' sheep—thet ain't stealin' gurls by a long sight. Beasley 'll blame that on us, an' be greaser enough to send some of his men out to hunt us. For Pine an' Show Down won't stand thet long. There's them Mormons. They'll be hell when they wake up. Suppose Carmichael got thet hunter Dale an' them hawk-eyed Beemans on our trail?”
“Wal, we'd cash in—quick,” replied Anson, gruffly.