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Updated: June 22, 2025
"That's the way to say it!" asserted Panhandle, changing front and slapping Posmo on the shoulder. "We're broke, and who the hell cares?" "Let's have a drink," suggested Shorty. "I got a couple of beans left." They slouched out from the back room and stood at the bar. Panhandle immediately became engaged in noisy argument with one of the frequenters of the place.
"And don't make any mistakes," threatened Lawson, riding close to the Mexican. "If you do you won't last." Posmo had not counted on this turn of affairs. He had supposed that his news would send Sneed and his men in to have it out with Panhandle, or that one of them would ride in and persuade Panhandle to join them.
They would pass to the east of Phoenix, and take the old Apache Trail, North. Posmo had his horse saddled and hidden in a draw. He mounted and rode directly toward the oncoming horsemen. He sang as he rode. It was safer to do that, when it was growing dark. The riders would know he was a Mexican, and that he did not wish to conceal his identity on the road.
He told his story in a manner that impressed the coroner's jury. Senator Brown was present, and identified one of the dead outlaws as Sneed. Posmo, killed by Panhandle's first shot, was known in Phoenix. Panhandle, riddled with bullets, was also identified by the Senator, Cheyenne, and several habitués of the gambling-hall. Bartley himself identified the body of one man as that of Hull.
"It's Panhandle!" whispered Bartley, as the figure of Sears was silhouetted against the lighted windows of the place opposite. Out of the shadows where the riders waited came a single, abrupt word, peremptory, incisive: "Panhandle!" Panhandle, about to turn into the lighted doorway, stopped short. Sneed had called to Panhandle; but it was Posmo the Mexican who rode forward to meet him.
He do not give me anything for that I make the deal over there," and Posmo gestured toward the south. "Double-crossed you, eh? And now you're sore and want his scalp." "He talk too much of the Box-S horses in that cantina," stated Posmo deliberately. "He say that you owe him money." This was an afterthought, and an invention. "Who did he say that to?" queried Sneed.
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