human
What is the trouble? he demanded authoritatively.
gpt
What have the young men done?
human
The sheriff! yelled someone in the crowd.
gpt
It's Turner, the sheriff!
human
Yes, it's Turner, the sheriff, and the man tightened his grips on Thure's and Bud's collars.
gpt
Hands off. They are my prisoners now, and he turned a bit impatiently to the men, whose hands still had hold of the boys.
human
Well, what have they done?
gpt
Murder!
human
Murder!
gpt
Why, they are little more than boys! and the sheriff turned his eyes in astonished horror on Thure and Bud.
human
Who accuses them?
gpt
Me an' my pard do, and the big red-headed man with a broken nose, who had let go of Thure the moment the sheriff had him safely by the collar, stepped up in front of Turner.
human
We accuses them of murderin' an' robbin' John Stackpole, an old miner, who was on his way tew San Francisco from th' diggin's; an' what's more, we saw 'em do it with our own eyes; an' are ready tew swear tew th' same afore any judge an' jury. Ain't we Spike?
gpt
True as preachin', declared the small man.
human
With my own eyes I saw 'em knock th' miner off his hoss with their guns, an' then jump on him, an' run a knife through his heart, an' jerk off his gold-belt, an'--
gpt
You lie! and the hard fist of Bud's sturdy right arm landed squarely on the chin of the man, with such force that he was knocked backward, senseless, into the arms of a man standing behind him.
human
You and Brokennose killed him yourselves. We--
gpt
Shut up! and the sheriff whirled Bud violently around in front of him.
human
Now, young man, another move like that and I will put you in irons. Here, Dave, and he turned to a roughly dressed miner standing near,