look, "Samson wouldn't have a show with a man quick on the draw who
meant bizness. Bent didn't pan out worth a cent, and the boys didn't
like him, but--them things don't happen often." So in his own way he
tried to warn the man to whom he had taken a liking.

Charley felt that a warning was intended, for he replied decisively: "It
don't matter. I guess he wanted to jump me, and I won't be jumped, not
if Samson wanted to, and all the revolvers in Garotte were on me."

"Wall," Crocker went on quietly, but with a certain curiosity in his
eyes, "that's all right, but I reckon you were mistaken. Bent didn't
want to rush ye; 'twas only his cussed way, and he'd had mighty bad luck.
You might hev waited to see if he meant anythin', mightn't ye?" And he
looked his listener in the face as he spoke.

"That's it," Charley replied, after a long pause, "that's just it. I
couldn't wait, d'ye see!" and then continued hurriedly, as if driven to
relieve himself by a full confession: "Maybe you don't _sabe_. It's
plain enough, though I'd have to begin far back to make you understand.
But I don't mind if you want to hear. I was raised in the East, in Rhode
Island, and I guess I was liked by everybody. I never had trouble with
any one, and I was a sort of favourite.... I fell in love with a girl,
and as I hadn't much money, I came West to make some, as quick as I knew
how. The first place I struck was Laramie--you don't know it? 'Twas a
hard place; cowboys, liquor saloons, cursin' and swearin', poker and
shootin' nearly every night. At the beginning I seemed to get along all
right, and I liked the boys, and thought they liked me. One night a
little Irishman was rough on me; first of all I didn't notice, thought
he meant nothin', and then, all at once, I saw he meant it--and more.