human
Emerson Mead goin' off to jail with Jim Halliday! Nick, why didn't he let us shoot? He needn't have been arrested! Here was a good chance to clean up more'n half his enemies, and he wouldn't let us do it! He looked at Ellhorn in angry, regretful grief, and the tears dropped over his tanned cheeks.
gpt
Say, Nick, he went on, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper,
human
Sure, and I don't, Ellhorn replied promptly.
gpt
I reckon Emerson Mead never was afraid of anybody or anything.
human
Well, I'm glad you don't, Tom replied, his voice still shaking with sobs.
gpt
I couldn't help thinkin' when he kept tellin' us not to shoot, that maybe he was afraid, with all those guns in front and only us four against 'em, and I said to myself, 'Good Lord, have I been runnin' alongside a coward all these years!' And I was sure sick for a minute. But I guess it was just his judgment that there'd better not be any shootin' just now.
human
Well, I reckon there would have been a heap o' dead folks in this room by now if we-all had turned loose.
gpt
About as many as we-all had cartridges, and Tuttle glanced at their well-filled belts. He was silent a moment, while he wiped his eyes and blew his nose, and his sobs gradually ceased.
human
No, Emerson couldn't have been afraid. Though I sure thought for a minute I'd have to quit him. But you're right, Nick. Emerson ain't afraid of anything, livin' or dead. It was just his judgment. And Emerson's got powerful good judgment, too. I ought to have known better than to think anything else. But, Lord! I did hate to see that measly crowd sneakin' out of here alive!