But they're out. Oh,
yes, they're sure out. Yes, siree, you guessed right. Ther's sure
been some play around here. As neat a hangin' as I've see in
thirty-five year tryin' to figger out the sort o' sense stewin' in the
think tanks o' the crazy guys who live in cities an' make up po'try
about grass. Mebbe you've heard all the play?"
Bud shook his head. He drank up his lager, and took the opportunity of
glancing over his glass at Jeff's back. Then he set his glass down and
ordered another bottle for both of them.
"No," he observed. "I ain't heard much. I heard there's been some
hangin'. The Lightfoot gang, eh? Seems to me I've heard talk of 'em
down our way. So you boys here got in on 'em?"
Ju set the two fresh bottles on the counter while Bud lit his cigar.
"That's so," he said with appreciation, and propped his folded arms
upon the bar. "It sort o' come sudden, too." He smiled faintly. "It
come as I said it would right here in this bar. The boys was settin'
around sousing, an' pushin' round the cyards, an' the Vigilante
Committee was settin' on a pow-wow.
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