sweat for this dirty attempt to blackmail me!"
"If you're still in that notion five minutes from now, go and do it, sir."
Fannie stepped in front of Stott as he moved as if to leave the room in his high and virtuous heat.
"You can call the devil when we're through with you, Stott," she said.
"If Mackey's in this—"
"Mackey left Cottonwood last night, sir."
"We had a session with him yesterday afternoon, Henry. He sold his joint to Jud Springer last night."
Stott sat down again. Every word they said seemed to drive him a little lower, until he leaned forward, his head down, an ungainly, dispirited lump.
"Zeb Smith is drunk this morning, and locked up in a safe place," Texas added, speaking close to Stott's ear, as if in confidence. "He'll keep where he is without any sheriff."
"After you went to all that expense to have the wrong man killed, Henry," Fannie mocked, "and old Zeb came back to hold you up again."
"He's ready to go into court and swear he saw you shoot Ed McCoy. Now, if you want to fetch sheriffs into this case, sir, you can go right on and do it."
