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"I'm givin' you a hunch. He's damn queer fer a fellar who expects to break jail." "No matter. Let's get at it, pronto." Hurd got up, and laid his gun on the table. Then he turned over the bench, threw papers on the floor. "Thar's the key, an' heah's a rope. Hawg-tie me." With that he turned his back. Swiftly Pan bound him securely, and let him down upon the floor.
But I reckon thet little run-in of mine with Smith has made bad feelin'. An' come to think of thet, if I did go back I'd only have to fight some of Smith's friends. An' I reckon I'd better not go. It'd only make trouble for you." "Me! ... You heard me refuse." "Shore I heerd you," drawled Larry, softly, "but you're goin' back if I have to hawg-tie you an' pack you out there on a hoss."
"Haw-haw! ... Wal, Jim, I'll rustle a bit down the trail an' wait. No huntin' Jean Isbel alone not fer me. I've had a queer feelin' about thet knife he used on Greaves. An' I reckon y'u'd oughter let thet Jorth hussy alone long enough to " "Springer, I reckon I've got to hawg-tie her " His voice became indistinguishable, and footfalls attested to a slow moving away of the men.
"Miss Collie, air you-all goin' to sit up thar?" inquired the taller cowboy, a lean, supple, and powerful fellow, with a rough, red-blue face, hard as a rock, and steady, bright eyes. "I sure am, Jim," she replied, imperturbably. "But we've gotta hawg-tie him," protested the cowboy. "Yes, I know. And you're going to be gentle about it."
I want to get out quick." "Wal, you might be too damn considerate of Miss Hammond's sensitive feelin's." There was now no trace of the courteous, kindly old rancher. He looked harder than stone. "How about my feelin's? I want to know if you're goin' to let this sneakin' coyote, this last gasp of the old rum-guzzlin' frontier sheriffs, put you in irons an' hawg-tie you an' drive you off to jail?"
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