still more, "I reckon I ain't
going to stay out there an' watch it, an' I can't bring it in here.
But I reckon it'll be all right. You see, I carry 'big medicine'
agin hoss-thieves," he replied, tapping his holster and smiling as he
remembered the time, not long past, when he himself had been accused of
being one. "I'll take a chance if he will--what'll you all have?"

"Little whiskey," replied Fisher, uneasily, worrying because he could
not stand for a return treat. "But, say; you keep yore eye on that
animal, just the same," he added, and then hurriedly gave his reasons.
"An' the worst part of the whole thing is that I ain't got no gun, an'
can't seem to borrow none, neither," he added, wistfully eyeing the
stranger's Colt. "I gambled mine away to the bartender here an' he won't
lemme borrow it for five minutes!"

"Why, I never heard tell of such a thing before!" exclaimed the
stranger, hardly believing his ears, and aghast at the thought that such
conditions could exist. "Friend," he said, addressing the bartender,
"how is it that this sort of thing can go on in this town?" When the
bartender had explained at some length, his interested listener smote
the bar with a heavy fist and voiced his outraged feelings. "I'll shore
be plumb happy to spread that coyote marshal all over his cussed pound!
Say, come with me; I'm going down there right now an' get that cayuse,
an' if the marshal opens his mouth to peep I'll get him, too. I'm
itching for a chance to tunnel a man like him. Come on an' see the
show!"

"Not much!" retorted Fisher. "While I am some pleased to meet a white
man, an' have a deep an' abiding gratitude for yore noble offer, I can't
let you do it. He put it over on me, an' I'm the one that's got to shoot
him up. He's mine, my pudding; an' I'm hogging him all to myself. That
is one luxury I can indulge in even if I am broke; an' I'm sorry, but
I can't give you cards. Seeing, however, as you are so friendly to the
cause of liberty an' justice, suppose you lend me yore gun for about
three minutes by the watch. From what I've been told about this town
such an act will win for you the eternal love an' gratitude of a
down-trodden people; yore gun will blaze the way to liberty an' light,
freedom an' the right to own yore own property, an' keep it. All I ask
is that I be the undeserving medium."

"A-men," sighed the bartender. "Deacon Jones will now pass down the
aisle an' collect the buttons an' tin money."