But if you was to
put in three months on a cactus desert, with water holes fifty miles
apart, it would begin to glimmer on you as to what it means to find
yourse'f afoot. It would come over you like a landslide that the
party who steals your hoss would have improved your condition in
life a heap if he'd played his hand out by shootin' a hole through
your heart.
"No, I ain't in no sech hurry to hang people for standin' in on some
killin'. Thar's two sides to a killin'; an' if deceased is framed up
with a gun all reg'lar at the time, it goes a long way toward
exculpatin' of the sport who outlives him. But thar ain't only one
side to hoss-stealin', an' the sooner the party's strung up or
plugged, the sooner thar's a vict'ry for the right.
"As I remarks, it ain't two minutes when thar's four of us gone
swarmin' off after the dumb man who's got Texas Thompson's pinto
pony. From the tracks, he ain't makin' no play to throw us off, for
he maintains a straight-away run down the Silver City trail, an'
never leaves it or doubles once.
"Runnin' of the dumb man down don't turn out no arduous task. It's
doo mainly, however, because the pinto sticks a cactus thorn in its
hoof an' goes lame in less time tharafter than it takes to turn a
jack.
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