Why!
it's like sooicide!
"Moon goes out to his wagons an' gets, an' buckles on, his guns.
Quick, crafty, brisk as a cat an' with no more noise, Moon comes
walkin' into the Red Light door. He sees Curly where he sits at
seven-up, with his back turned towards him.
"'One for jack!' says Curly, turnin' that fav'rite kyard. Moon sort
o' drifts to his r'ar.
"'Bang!' says Moon's pistol, an' Curly falls for'ards onto the
table, an' then onto the floor, the bullet plumb through his head,
as I informs you.
"Curly Ben never has the shadow of a tip, he's out of the Red Light
an' into the regions beyond, like snappin' your thumb an' finger.
It's as sharp as the buck of a pony, he's Moon's meat in a minute.
"No, thar's nothin' for Wolfville to do. Moon's jestified. Which his
play is the one trail out, for up to that p'int where Moon onhooks
his guns, Curly ain't done nothin' to put him in reach of the
Stranglers. Committees of vig'lance, that a-way, like shore-enough
co'ts, can't prevent crime, they only punish it, an' up to where
Moon gets decisive action, thar's no openin' by which the Stranglers
could cut in on the deal. Yes, Enright convenes his committee an'
goes through the motions of tryin' Moon.
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