ours?' says Jack Moore to Enright the next day, when we're saddlin'
up an' organizin' to pull our freight. 'He's shore due to bother us
a lot. We're plumb sixty miles from Tutt an' the boys, an' ridin'
herd on this yere saddle-colored gent, a-keepin' of him from lopin'
off, is mighty likely to be a heap exhaustin'. I knows men,' Jack
remarks at the close, lookin' wistful at Enright, 'as would beef him
right yere an' leave him as a companion piece to that compadre of
his you downs.'

"'Nachers as would execute a pris'ner in cold blood,' says Enright,
'is roode an' oncivilized. Which I don't mean they is low neither;
but it's onconsiderate that a-way to go an' ca'mly kill a pris'ner,
an' no co't nor committee authorizin' the same. I never knows of it
bein' done but once. It's Mexicans who does it then; which is why
they ain't none pop'lar with me since.'

"'It's shore what you calls a mighty indurated play,' says Jack,
shakin' his head, 'to go shootin' some he'pless gent you've took;
but, as I states, it's a cinch it'll be a heap fatiguin' keepin'
cases on this yere Mexican till we meets up with a quorum of the
committee. Still it's our dooty, an' of course we don't double-deal,
nor put back kyards on what's our plain dooty.'

"'What you-all states,' says Enright,'`is to your credit, but I'll
tell you. Thar ain't no harm mountin' this marauder on a slow pony
that a-way; an' bein' humane s'fficient to leave his hands an' feet
ontied. Of course if he takes advantage of our leniency an' goes
stampedin' off to make his escape some'ers along the trail, I
reckons you'll shorely have to shoot. Thar's no pass-out then but
down him, an' we sadly treads tharin. An',' goes on Enright, some