"What do you want?" McNamara inquired, finally.

"I just dropped in to get acquainted. My name is Dextry--Joe
Dextry--from everywhere west of the Missouri--an' your name is
McNamara, ain't it? This here, I reckon, is your little French
poodle--eh?" indicating Stillman.

"What do you mean?" said McNamara, while the Judge murmured
indignantly.

"Just what I say. However, that ain't what I want to talk about. I
don't take no stock in such truck as judges an' lawyers an' orders
of court. They ain't intended to be took serious. They're all
right for children an' Easterners an' non compos mentis people, I
s'pose, but I've always been my own judge, jury, an' hangman, an'
I aim to continue workin' my legislatif, executif, an' judicial
duties to the end of the string. You look out! My pardner is young
an' seems to like the idee of lettin' somebody else run his
business, so I'm goin' to give him rein and let him amuse himself
for a while with your dinky little writs an' receiverships. But
don't go too far--you can rob the Swedes, 'cause Swedes ain't
entitled to have no money, an' some other crook would get it if
you didn't, but don't play me an' Glenister fer Scandinavians.
It's a mistake. We're white men, an' I'm apt to come romancin' up
here with one of these an' bust you so you won't hold together
durin' the ceremonies."

With his last words he made the slightest shifting movement, only
a lifting shrug of the shoulder, yet in his palm lay a six-
shooter. He had slipped it from his trousers band with the ease of