Our folks thought a great deal of him, Mr.
Meredith; I don't believe there's any thinks more.

But it's come to that now; you can't hardly see no chance left.

We be'n sweating this other man, Slattery, but we can't break him down.

Jest tells us to go to"-- the sheriff paused, evidently deterred by the thought that swear-words were unbefitting a hospital--"to the other place, and shets his jaw up tight.
The one up here is called the Teller, as Mr.Barrett says; his name's Jerry the Teller.

Well, we told Slattery that Jerry had died and left a confession; tried to make him think there wasn't no hope fer him, and he might as well up and tell his share; might git off easier; warned him to look out for a mob if he didn't, maybe, and so on, but it never bothered him at all.