THE BOYS. Hear, hear! Thats right. Thats fair. That does it. Now
Blanco. Own up.
BLANCO. Sheriff: you touch me home. This is a rotten world; but
there is still one thing in it that remains sacred even to the
rottenest of us, and that is a horse.
THE BOYS. Good. Well said, Blanco. Thats straight.
BLANCO. You have a right to your horse, Sheriff; and if I could
put you in the way of getting it back, I would. But if I had that
horse I shouldn't be here. As I hope to be saved, Sheriff--or
rather as I hope to be damned; for I have no taste for pious
company and no talent for playing the harp--I know no more of
that horse's whereabouts than you do yourself.
STRAPPER. Who did you trade him to?
BLANCO. I did not trade him. I got nothing for him or by him. I
stand here with a rope round my neck for the want of him. When
you took me, did I fight like a thief or run like a thief; and
was there any sign of a horse on me or near me?
STRAPPER. You were looking at a rainbow, like a damned silly fool
instead of keeping your wits about you; and we stole up on you
and had you tight before you could draw a bead on us.
THE SHERIFF. That don't sound like good sense. What would he look
at a rainbow for?
BLANCO. I'll tell you, Sheriff. I was looking at it because there
was something written on it.
SHERIFF. How do you mean written on it?
BLANCO. The words were, "Ive got the cinch on you this time,
Blanco Posnet." Yes, Sheriff, I saw those words in green on the
red streak of the rainbow; and as I saw them I felt Strapper's
grab on my arm and Squinty's on my pistol.
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