[Selected Stories by Bret Harte]@TWC D-Link bookSelected Stories PART II--IN THE FLOOD 225/402
Then the old woman--old Mother Baker--SHE joined in, and I listened too.
And then--dern my skin!--but a man's voice joined in--jest belching outer that cabin!--and I sorter lifted myself up and kem away. "That voice, gentlemen," said Mosby, lingering artistically as he took up a glass and professionally eyed it before wiping it with his towel, "that voice, cumf'bly fixed thar in thet cabin among them wimen folks, was Bulger's!" Briggs got up, with his eyes looking the darker for his flushed face. "Gentlemen," he said huskily, "thar's only one thing to be done.
A lot of us have got to ride over to Sawyer's Dam tomorrow morning and pick up as many square men as we can muster; there's a big camp meeting goin' on there, and there won't be no difficulty in that.
When we've got a big enough crowd to show we mean business, we must march back here and ride Bulger out of this camp! I don't hanker arter Vigilance Committees, as a rule--it's a rough remedy--it's like drinkin' a quart o' whisky agin rattlesnake poison but it's got to be done! We don't mind being sold ourselves but when it comes to our standin' by and seein' the only innocent people in Rattlesnake given away--we kick! Bulger's got to be fired outer this camp! And he will be!" But he was not. For when, the next morning, a determined and thoughtful procession of the best and most characteristic citizens of Rattlesnake Camp filed into Sawyer's Dam, they found that their mysterious friends had disappeared, although they met with a fraternal but subdued welcome from the general camp.
But any approach to the subject of their visit, however, was received with a chilling dissapproval.
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