I captured him alone, didn't I?
Oh, I reckon I'll finger the money, alrighty!" "Here, fellows; give him a bait of whisky," said Creagan.
Breslin, kneeling at Foy's side, took the extended flask.

They administered the stimulant cautiously, a sip at a time.

Foy's eyes flickered; his breath came freer.
"He's coming!" said Breslin.

"Give him a sip of water now." "He'll be O.K.in five minutes, far as settin' up goes," said old Nueces, well pleased; "but he ain't goin' to be any too peart for quite some time--not for gettin' down off o' this hill.

See--he's battin' his eyes and working his hands around.