"One of you boys ride up an' fetch Wils Moore down hyar!" "All right, boss," called Lem, in reply, as he got up and gave a hitch to his belt.
The rancher hurried back, head down, as if burdened.
"Wade, I reckon you want to go fetch Wils ?" queried Lem.
"If it's all the same to you.

I'd rather not," replied Wade.
"By Golly! I don't blame you.

Boys, shore'n hell, Burley's after Wils." "Wal, suppos'n' he is," said Montana.

"You can gamble Wils ain't agoin' to run.

I'd jest like to see him face thet outfit.