human
Where's Grimshaw's hang-out?
gpt
It's in a coulee--ten miles from here. A coulee with rock sides, an' a rock floor. A deep coulee. Ride straight fer Pinnacle Butte an' you'll come to it. It's up the coulee, in a cave.
human
All right. You can go now. But, remember, if you've lied to me, I'll hunt you down. I ought to kill you anyway--for this.
gpt
Purdy writ it--I can't write. I ain't lyin'. It's there--the cave--west side--crack in the rock wall.
human
An' you think when I go bustin' in on 'em, they'll just naturally fill me so full of holes my hide won't hold rainwater--is that it? You wait till I tell Cass Grimshaw you're sneakin' around tippin' folks off to his hang-out. Looks to me like Long Bill Kearney's got to kiss the bad lands good-bye, no matter which way the cat jumps.
gpt
Fer Gawd's sakes, Tex, you wouldn't do that! I'm a friend of yourn. You wouldn't double-cross a friend. Cass, he'd kill me just as sure as he'd kill a rattlesnake if it bit him!
human
An' that's jest about what's happened.