H. Bedford-Jones

“ Galway Mike, behind the bar, opened his mouth and started with a drooping jaw.
"Fisher!" stammered Murphy. "Who you callin' Fisher, sheriff? This here gent——"
"Is the sheriff o' Pecos County," said Sheriff Tracy. "And he's takin' my place here for a few days, gents. Now, Brady, march along!"
"I'll run along and see yo off," said Sam Fisher languidly.
Tracy grinned. He was beginning to feel that he had chasen the wiser way out of a very bad dilemma, and was fully as anxious to depart from Pahrump as Sam Fisher was to have him gone. He had nothing to gain by staying, and much to lose. ”

“ Galway Mike set out a bottle and made a grimace, but neither man noticed it. Both seized for the bottle at once, pouring drinks with shaking hands.
"Nope," said Mike at last. "Ain't been in."
"Gosh, that feels good goin' down!" rejoined the foremost man. "Say, you got to get word out to Buck to-night; we can't ride another mile. Done killed two hosses on the way up. Tell Buck we done lost our man——"
At length the dead stillness of the place struck home. The two riders glanced at each other, then turned to survey the crowd. ”

“ Tracy appeared, to the amazement of Mike. He produced handcuffs and stepped forward. From Murphy broke a string of oaths.
"Shut up!" ordered Fisher. "One more word out of you, Pincher Brady, and I'll drill your hand—should ha' done it yesterday. You're going to the capital for robbery and murder. Guess I'll take a look at his pockets, Tracy, if you don't mind."
Gyved and backed against the bar by Tracy, the prisoner was helpless. Sam Fisher stepped forward, removed his gun, and then swiftly searched him. He took from Murphy's breast pocket a number of papers, and hurriedly glanced over them. ”