"Don't be rash, Hardman. I've come here to put you under arrest
for robbing the T. P. Limited, and I'm going to do it."
The indolent, contemptuous drawl, so free of even a suggestion of
the strain the sheriff must have been under, completed his
victory. The fellow lowered his rifle with a peevish oath.
"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Mr. Collins."
"I guess not," retorted the sheriff easily. "Del, you better
relieve Mr. Hardman of his ballast. He ain't really fit to be
trusted with a weapon, and him so excitable. That Winchester came
awful near going off, friend. You don't want to be so careless
when you're playing with firearms. It's a habit that's liable to
get you into trouble."
Collins had not shaved death so closely without feeling a
reaction of boyish gaiety at his adventure. It bubbled up in his
talk like effervescing soda.
"Now we'll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn
to the stable, and have a little game of 'Button, button, who's
got the button?' You first, Mr. Hardman. If you'll kindly shuck
your coat and vest, we'll begin button-hunting."
They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything
pertaining to "J.
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