"The boss guessed I'd best wait around, so it
ain't a heap o' use kickin'. I'll hev to wait till the durned
committee's through, if it takes 'em sittin' as long us a hide-bound
hen."
"It's allus that-a-way when folks gets on a committee racket, Curly,"
replied one of his friends with a sympathetic grin.
"That's just how, Dan," agreed the third. "Hot air. That's what it
is. This tarnation Vigilance stunt sets folk whisperin' among
'emselves 'bout the hell goin' to be ladled out to all cattle thieves
in general. Gives 'em visions of hangin'-bees, an' a sort o' firework
display with guns an' things, an' when they hatched out, what's the
result? Why, a waste o' hot air, an'--no checkens."
"'T'so, Dan," agreed Curly, with easy decision. "The boss is too near
relative of a fancy gentleman for to hand out the sort o' dope rustlers
need. If us boys had the job we'd fix things quick. You'd see this
bum gang kicking air at the end of a rope 'fore Ju, here, had time to
dope out four fingers of rotgut at the expense of the house.
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