with my li-yer, an' he 'vises me that if I can give the security an' perduce a sasherarer, I kin hev this yere case carried up ter Sonora in spite of yer!"
"Yes, Pike, if you think it will pay, and you ain't satisfied with my decision, I s'pose you can do it, but all I can say is, I've decided 'cordin' to law, and tried to do you justice, and you'll find that out when you have spent what money you have got in lawin' it, and feeing these infernal thievin' lawyers."
"Never yer mind what I'll spend, nor what you've tried ter do fur me, Judge ; what I want ter know is, will the security on a sasherarer do it?"
"Of course it'll do it; but, as I was sayin'—"
"That'll do, Judge! Yer infernal old skunk, I've just got yer this time whar the har's short, you bet!" Here he drew a large buckskin bag of gold-dust from his pocket, and slapped it on the table with one hand, while with the other he dexterously pulled from its scabbard from behind him his huge army-sized Colt's revolver, swung it over his head, cocking it as he did so, and bringing it down with a heavy thud on the table, with the muzzle pointing directly in the line of the Judge's diaphragm. "Thar's my security, an' dern yer connubiating old gizzard, whar's my sasherarer?"
The Judge was no coward, but he took one good look at the revolver pointing directly at his vitals, with its six chambers filled to the end with powder and lead, raised his eyes to Pike's face, and saw deadly determination in every curve and line and wrinkle, and—he weakened.
