funeral of the marshal none, who gets careless an' goes too close.' An' you bet Jack's right.
"But goin' back: As I remarks, Jack stands round loose an' indifferent with his eye on the pony of Piñon Bill's, which it looks now like this yere Bill is aware of Jack's little game. He comes out shore-'nough, but he's organized. He's got his gun in his hand; an' also he's packin' the Deef Woman's yearlin' in front of his breast an' face.
"Jack gives him the word, but Piñon Bill only laughs. Then Jack makes a bluff with his gun like he's goin' to shoot Piñon Bill, the infant, an' all involved tharin. This yere last move rattles Piñon Bill, an' he ups an' slams loose at Jack. But the baby's in his way as much mebby as it is in Jack's, an' he only grazes Jack's frame a whole lot, which amounts to some blood an' no deep harm.
"'Down his pony, Jack!' shouts Dave Tutt, jumpin' outen the Red Light like he aims to get in on the deal.
"But this yere Piñon Bill shifts the cut on 'em.
"'If one of you-alls so much as cracks a cap,' he says, 'I blows the head offen this yere blessed child.'
"An' tharupon he shoves his gun up agin that baby's left y'ear that a-way, so it shore curdles your blood. He does it as readily as if it's
