"Ain't I been too
mad to think at all? Hain't I seen my friends treated like dogs, an'
made to swaller insults when I couldn't raise my hand to stop it? Didn't
I see Jerry Brown chased out of my place like a wild beast? If we are
what we've been called, then we'll sneak out of town with our tails
atween our laigs; but if we're men we'll stay right here an' cram the
insults down the throats of them that made 'em! If we're _men_ let's
prove it an' make them liars swaller our lead."
"My sentiments an' allus was!" roared Slivers, slapping Harlan's
shoulder.
"We're men, all right, an' we'll show 'em it, too!"
At that instant the door opened and four guns covered it before it had
swung a foot.
"Put 'em down--it's Quinn!" exclaimed the man in the doorway, flinching
a bit. "All right, Jed," he called over his shoulder to the man who
crowded him. After Quinn came Big Jed and Harper brought up the rear.
They had no more than shaken the water from their sombreros when the
back door let in Charley Rich and his two companions, Frank and Tom
Nolan. While greetings were being exchanged and the existing conditions
explained to the newcomers, Harper and Quinn led Harlan to one side and
reported, the proprietor smiling and nodding his head wisely. And while
he listened, Slivers surreptitiously corralled the whiskey bottle and
when the last man finished with it there was nothing in it but air.
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