"Ain't you got any nerve a-tall?"
"Where Tip is concerned, not much," was the frank reply. "I've seen
that man in action."
"Action nothin'. That's just what's the matter with that man--not
enough action. He'll go so far and no farther. He don't want anybody
wiped out if he can help it. You saw what a fuss he made over Tom
Walton's killing. Lord! He made me sick! You might 'a' thought Tom
was a good friend of his. I tell you, Arthur, that sort of
squeamishness don't get you anywhere. Nawsir. You gotta go the whole
hog or you'll wind up in the calaboose. You bet I ain't for any of
them half-way plans. It's kill a bull every time, or I don't shoot.
Tip O'Gorman must go."
"Lessee what Sam Larder and Crafty say," the district attorney offered
uneasily.
"No, not them, either of 'em," Rafe declared firmly. "They're friends
of Tip's."
"You tell 'em just like you told me," suggested the other. "Maybe you
could persuade 'em."
Rafe shook a decided head. "Not a chance. I know them. They're soft
and bull-headed where Tip's concerned. They think he's hell on the
Wabash, you know that. Those three stand together always. No, Arthur,
if we shove this deal through, we gotta do it alone."