human
Say, when's this bum sheriff gettin' around?
gpt
Some time to-night, he said, in a well-calculated tone of resentment.
human
That's why I got you boys around now,
gpt
You mean----?
human
That old crow bait got back early this mornin', he went on.
gpt
I was waitin' on her. She guessed she hadn't a thing to say, an' I surely was up agin a proposition. So I jest made out I was feelin' good seein' her git back, an' told her I wa'an't lookin' for information she didn't guess she was givin', and ther' wasn't no need fer her to say a thing. She guessed that was so. After that I passed things by, sayin' how some o' the boys hated sheriffs wuss'n rattlesnakes--an' she laffed. Yes, sir, she laffed, an' it must have hurt her some. Anyways she opened out at that, an' said, if any boys hated the sight of sheriffs they'd better hunt their holes before sun-up. Guess she didn't just use them words, but she give 'em that time limit. Say, if I was the Padre I'd sooner have the devil on my trail than that old--bunch o' marrow bones.
human
Guess he'll have wuss'n her when Bob Richards gets around,
gpt
D'you reckon they'll git him--with Buck around?
human
Buck! Tcha! Beasley's dislike for the moment got the better of his discretion. But he quickly realized his mistake, and proceeded to twist his meaning.
gpt
It makes me mad. It makes me plumb crazed when I think o' that bully feller, the Padre, bein' give dead away by the folks at the farm. Buck? Psha'! Who's Buck agin a feller like Bob Richards? Bob's the greatest sheriff ever stepped in Montana. He'll twist Buck so he won't know rye whisky from sow-belly. Buck's grit, elegant grit, but Bob--wal, I'd say he's the wisest guy west of Chicago, when it comes to stringin' up a crook.
human
I'm with you, boss, cried Diamond Jack, in a quick rage.
gpt
This farm needs lookin' to to-night sure. We got to git in 'fore sheriffs git around. They're playin' a low-down racket. Jonahs don't cut no ice with me, but they're chasin' up glory agin the camp. That's how I read it. Guess none of us is saints, anyways I don't seem to hear no wings flappin'; but givin' folks up to the law is--low.