The Sheriff.  Silence.  Do you hear?  Silence. [The clamor ceases].  Did anyone else see the prisoner with the horse?

Feemy [passionately] Aint I good enough?

Babsy.  No.  Youre dirt:  thats what you are.

Feemy.  And you—­

The Sheriff.  Silence.  This trial is a man’s job; and if the women forget their sex they can go out or be put out.  Strapper and Miss Evans:  you cant have it two ways.  You can run straight, or you can run gay, so to speak; but you cant run both ways together.  There is also a strong feeling among the men of this town that a line should be drawn between those that are straight wives and mothers and those that are, in the words of the Book of Books, taking the primrose path.  We don’t wish to be hard on any woman; and most of us have a personal regard for Miss Evans for the sake of old times; but theres no getting out of the fact that she has private reasons for wishing to oblige Strapper, and that—­if she will excuse my saying so—­she is not what I might call morally particular as to what she does to oblige him.  Therefore I ask the prisoner not to drive us to give Miss Evans the oath.  I ask him to tell us fair and square, as a man who has but a few minutes between him and eternity, what he done with my horse.

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.