It's up to you to choose."
Quite without dramatics, as placidly as if he were discussing
railroad rebates, the ranger delivered his ultimatum. It seemed
plain that he considered the issue no responsibility of his.
Anderson stared at him in silent horror, moistening his dry lips
with the tip of his tongue. Once his gaze shifted to the sheriff
but found small comfort there. Collins had picked up a newspaper
and was absorbed in it.
"Are you going to let him kill me?" the man asked him hoarsely.
He looked up from his newspaper in mild protest at such unreason.
"Me? I ain't sittin' in this game. Seems like I mentioned that
already."
"Better not waste your time, signor, on side issues," advised the
man behind the gun. "For I plumb forgot to tell you I'm allowing
only three minutes to begin your story, half of which three has
already slipped away to yesterday's seven thousand years. Without
wantin' to hurry you, I suggest the wisdom of a prompt decision."
"Would he do it?" gasped the victim, with a last appeal to
Collins.
"Would he what? Oh, shoot you up. Cayn't tell till I see. If he
says he will he's liable to.
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