"You 're a fine-lookin' lot o' law-abidin' citizens, you are! Blamed if you ain't.

Why, I wouldn't give a snap of my fingers fer the whole kit and caboodle of ye, you low-down, sneakin' parcel o' thieves.
Ye say it wus yer votes whut made me marshal o' this camp.

Well, I reckon they did, an' I reckon likewise I know 'bout whut my duty under the law is, an' I'm a-goin' to do it.

If you fellers thought ye 'lected a chump, this is the time you git left.

This yere man, Bob Hampton, is my prisoner, an' I'll take him to Cheyenne, if I have ter brain every tough in Glencaid to do it.