'
"He said it as easy as if he was passin' the morning with Ferguson, but
I seen that it was the last straw with Sandy. He hefted out both guns
and trained 'em on the greenhorn.
"I yelled: 'Sandy, for God's sake, don't be killin' a tenderfoot!'
"'If whisky will kill him he's goin' to die,' says Sandy. 'Flanders,
pour out a drink of rye for this gent.'
"I did it, though my hand was shaking a lot, and the chap takes the
glass and raises it polite, and looks at the colour of it. I thought he
was goin' to drink, and starts wipin' the sweat off'n my forehead.
"But this chap, he sets down the glass and smiles over to Sandy.
"'Listen,' he says, still grinnin', 'in the old days I suppose this
would have been a pretty bluff, but it won't work with me now. You want
me to drink this glass of very bad whisky, but I'm sure that you don't
want it badly enough to shoot me.
"'There are many reasons. In the old days a man shot down another and
then rode off on his horse and was forgotten, but in these days the
telegraph is faster than any horse that was ever foaled.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132