Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.
Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
"I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip," said Mr. Cassidy, trembling
with scorn and anger, "so yu can pull yourself together. I'll give yu
another chance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K.
If he ain't, I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts
yu'll make a good acre of weeds. If he is all right yu'd better
vamoose this range, for there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into
next time. What friends yu have left will have to tote yu off an'
plant yu," he finished with emphasis. He drove the horses outside,
and, after severing the bonds on his prisoners, lined them up.
"Yu," he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, "yu amble right
smart toward Canada," pointing to the north. "Keep a-going till yu
gets far enough away so a Colt won't find yu." Here he grinned with
delight as he saw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and,
drawing it forth, he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who
were already industriously plodding northward. "Hey!" he shouted, and
when they sullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he
gleefully waved his rifle at them and warned them further: "This is a
Sharp's an' it's good for half a mile, so don't stop none too soon.
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