We had a clinch and a stamp around, and when we was separated it was only a question of shootin' on sight.

He left Lagrange at sun up the next morning, and I struck across a bit o' buckeye and underbrush and came upon him, accidental like, on the Red Chief Road.

I drawed when I sighted him, and called out.

He slipped from his mare and covered himself with her flanks, reaching for his holster, but she rared and backed down on him across the road and into the grass, where I got in another shot and fetched him." "And you stole his mare ?" suggested the Judge.
"I got away," said the gambler, simply.
Further questioning only elicited the fact that Joe did not know the name or condition of his victim.

He was a stranger in Lagrange.
It was a breezy afternoon, with some turbulency in the camp, and much windy discussion over this unwonted delay of justice.