as at hand to make
an appropriate answer. "Ask him, why don't you?" he asked, stretching his
neck to ease the hairy, bristling clutch of the lariat.

"Oh, yu don't, an' yore still cheeky, eh?" cried the inquisitor. "An' yu
want yore d----d neck stretched, do yu?"

He motioned to the man on the horse at the end of the rope and Bill
straightened up and daylight showed under his heels. As he struggled there
was an interruption from the man who covered the back trail: "'Nds up!"
he cried. "Don't move!"

Tex signalled for Bill to be let down and ran backward to the opposite
side of the defile until he could see around the turn; and he discovered
the sheriff, who sat quietly under the gun of the cowboy.

"Stop! Don't yu even wiggle!" cried the guard. "I'll blow yore head off
at the first move!" he added in warning; and for once in his eventful life
Shields knew that he was absolutely helpless, for the time, at least.
His hands were clasped over his sombrero, for it would be tiresome to hold
them out, and he felt that he might have need of fresh, quick muscles
before long.

"All right, all right, bub," he responded in perfect good nature,
apparently. "Don't get nervous and let that gun go off, for it's shore
your turn now," he added, smiling his war smile. "Any particular thing you
want, or are you just practicing a short cut to eternity?"

"I want yu to stay just like yu are!" snapped the man with the drop. "And
yu keep yore mouth shut, too!"

"Since it's your last wish, why, it goes," replied the sheriff, ignoring
the command for silence. "Got any message for your folks? Any keep-sakes
you'd like to have sent back East? Give me the address of your folks and
I'll send them your last words, too."

"That's enough, Sheriff," said Tex, moving cautiously forward behind his
leveled Colt. "I'll do all th' talkin' that's necessary; yu just listen
for a while."

"Well, well," replied the sheriff, grinning and simulating surprise. "If
here ain't Tex Williard, too! What's your pet psalm, sonny? Good God,
what a face!"

"What's that got to do with this?" asked Tex, intently watching for war.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," replied the sheriff. "But, Lord, that
cayuse of yours can shore kick! Was you tickling it? They do go off like
that some times. Any of your nose coming out the back of your head yet?
But to reply to your touching inquiry, I'll say that the psalm might
work in handy after while, that's all. If you'll only t