And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up.
"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't
dead; he's just knocked out!"

It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other.
"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier.

Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was
instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority,
"but he's danged close to it. Fractured skull, that's what he's got.
And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the
bone grate!"

Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it,
boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are--the one-punch
kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good
to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that
saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like--"

The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with
Bill Dozier tonight?"

It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't
the boy fight clean?"

"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's
got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers."

"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?"