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Updated: May 8, 2025
This nice little old world of ours, in the long run, is going right. You can't beat the Game! Once, yes or twice not in the long run. The Percentage is all against you. You can't beat the Game!" "It's up to you, Sheriff," said Anastacio briskly. "I can turn you over to the Bar Cross outfit and they'll hang you now; or I can turn you over to the Barelas and you will be hung later.
"You don't mean to tell me there's any danger of anything like that?" said Breslin, staggered and aghast. "Every danger. That's an old gag the ley fuga." "You lie!" bawled Creagan. His six-shooter covered Anastacio. "That'll keep. Put up your gun, Bennie," said Anastacio with great composure. "Supper's most ready. Besides, the Barelas won't like it if you shoot me this way.
There's a lot of the Barelas, Ben. I'll tell you what I'll do, though I'll slip the idea to my crowd, and any time you want to kill me on an even break, no Barela or Ascarate will take it up. Put it right in your little holster put it up, I say! That's right. You see, Breslin? Don't let Foy out of your sight if he should be taken." "But he'll never let himself be taken alive," said Vorhis.
And if we have wars again, who but the Barelas would bear the brunt? No, no, Mr. Matt Lisner; while I may be a merely ornamental chief deputy, it will never be denied that I am a very careful chief to my gente. Be sure that I shall think more than once or twice before I set a man of my men at a useless hazard to pleasure you or to reëlect you." "You speak plainly." "I intend to.
I was after the Man Lower Down. What the Major told me was that the Barelas were at the ranch more than enough to hold Lisner's crowd down. They come at daylight. I was expecting that, and waiting. As I told you, that's the best thing I do waiting." "But how did you know?" demanded Breslin, puzzled. "I didn't know, for sure. I had a hunch and I played it. So I killed poor Applegate temporarily.
"If I hadn't balked you, the Barelas stood ready; if the Barelas failed, yonder big dust was on the way; half your own posse would have turned on you for half a guess at the truth. It's a real nice little world and it hates a lie. A good many people lay their fine-drawn plans, but they mostly don't come off! Men are but dust, they tell us. Magnificent dust!
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