No time was wasted.
The squatters were impressed with the necessity of doing what had to
be done quickly. The big 'Piker' spoke first.
"Boys, ain't it true that in this yere county there ain't bin a single
man executed by the law fer murder in the first degree?"
"That's right. Not a one!"
"And if a man has a bit o' dough behind him, isn't it a fact that he
don't linger overly long in San Quentin?"
"Dead sure snap."
"Boys, this is our affair. We're pore; we've neither money nor time to
waste in law courts, but we've got to show some o' these fellers as is
holding land as don't belong to 'em that we mean business first, last,
and all the time."
There was a hoarse murmur of assent.
"The cold facts are these," continued the speaker. "We all know that
Ransom and Jake Farge hev had trouble over the claim that Farge staked
out inside o' Ransom's fence; an' we know that Ransom has no more
right to the land he fenced than the coyotes that run on it. For
twenty years he's enjoyed the use of what isn't his'n, an' I say he'd
oughter be thankful. Anyways, we come down to the events of yesterday
and to-day.
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