“You—what do yuh want us to do?”
“I want you to bring down every gun up there, Sol. Load up and bring
’em all down here and lay ’em in the street.”
“Like —— he will!” roars a voice.
“You’ll never get my guns!”
“Nor mine!” howls another.
“Better do it,” advises Sellers. “He’s got just what he says he
has.”
“I’m countin’ to ten,” states Hashknife. “Countin’ in my own rapid
way, Sol.”
“I’m comin’,” says Sol. “For gosh sakes give me a little time.”
Sol Vane looked like a hardware store when he made that first trip.
I never seen so many guns outside the army. He lays ’em in the
street and then goes back for more. It took him four trips to bring
’em.
“Now what?” he whines.
“Have ’em all come down, one at a time,” says Hashknife, and then he
yells over at me: “Watch ’em, Sleepy. If they look like they’re
holdin’ out on us, don’t give ’em a chance.”
“I’m particular,” I yells back. “Send ’em down, Mr. Lawyer.”
Then they begins to file out and down the stairs. Sol lines ’em up
in the street, and they sure are a sore crowd. Finally they quit
coming.
“Is that all?” asks Hashknife.
“That’s all of ’em,” says Sol.
I starts to get up, but Buddy grabs me by the belt and yanks so hard
that we both went over backwards. With his heels in the air, Buddy
yelps—
“Mitch Ames and Cale Ames ain’t out yet!”
That’s all that saved us, I reckon. I rolled over, shoved my rifle
across the lumber pile and took a snap-shot at Cale Ames, as he
threw down on Hashknife from one of the windows. I seen Cale’s gun
fall outside and he fell down past the window-sill. Hashknife jumps
back around the corner and covers the crowd with his six-shooter.
I reckon that Mitch Ames figured that Hashknife would explode that
dynamite, and he also figured that we wouldn’t let him surrender; so
he ran out of the door, and vaulted over the top of the railing. I
ain’t no wing shot with a rifle, but Mitch Ames didn’t get up after
he hit the ground.
“Got him!” I yells at Hashknife.
Buddy follers me out into the street and we meets Hashknife near the
crowd.
“Sol,” says Hashknife, “I ought to kill you for lyin’. If it hadn’t
been for Buddy your scheme would ’a’ worked. I reckon them Ameses
are your best shots, eh?”