Page:Saga of Billy the Kid.djvu/252

man's knot? Got seven turns to it. The rope slips through it smooth as silk."

"Better tell 'em to put eight turns in it. Might be a slip-up in my case."

"Only slip-up there'll be is when that old rope slips up tight around your throat under your jawbone. Then the old trap'll swing down—bang! That's when you'll begin to dance. Plenty of good Lincoln County air for your dancing floor. Always heard you were a mighty fine dancer."

"That's no way to talk, Bob," cut in Bell. "Leave the Kid alone. No sense in aggravatin' him like that. He'll take his medicine like a man when the time comes. I'll bet on that."

"Like a man, eh?" answered Ollinger. "He'll die like a dog."

"To throw a steer," observed the Kid philosophically, "you've first got to get a rope over his foot. There ain't any noose around my neck yet."

"Feel up around your Adam's-apple May thirteenth and you'll find one there."

"A lot can happen between now and then."

"But nothin' that can help you any." Ollinger's brow wrinkled. He bent a savage look upon the Kid. "You hintin' at escapin'? You ain't got a chance on earth."

Ollinger had a double-barrelled shotgun lying across his lap. He broke it at the breach.

"Look here, Kid," he said. "See these two shells?"

"Going quail hunting?" Billy smiled.

"Each one of them shells is loaded with nine buckshot. Try to escape. I wish you would. I'd like to see you kickin' at a rope's end but, when I come to think about it, I believe I'd rather murder you myself. Go ahead and