Put on your irons and take me back.

Hang me and be damned to you, but I'll do no more to double-cross him." Sliver Waldron drew from his pocket something which jangled faintly, but the sheriff stopped him with a word.

He sat up behind his rock.
"I got an idea, Gregg, that you've finished up your job and double-crossed us! Does he know that I'm out here?
Sit down there out of sight." "I'll do that," said Gregg, obeying, "because you got the right to make me, but you ain't got the right to make me talk, and nothin' this side of hell can pry a word out of me!" The sheriff drew down his brows until his eyes were merely cavities of blackness.

Very tenderly he fondled the rifle-butt which lay across his knees, and never in the mountain-desert had there been a more humbly unpretentious figure of a man.
He said: "Vic, I been thinkin' that you had the man-sized makin's of a skunk, but I'm considerable glad to see I've judged you wrong.

Sit quiet here.