Censorship; Horse stealing -- Drama; West (U.S.) -- Drama
THE BOYS. A collection. Oh, I say! Calls that sport? Is this a mothers'
meeting? Well, I'll be jiggered! Where does the sport come in?
THE SHERIFF [continuing] The sport comes in, my friends, not so much in
contributing as in seeing others fork out. Thus each contributes to the
general enjoyment; and all contribute to his. Blanco Posnet: you go free
under the protection of the Vigilance Committee for just long enough to
get you out of this town, which is not a healthy place for you. As you
are in a hurry, I'll sell you the horse at a reasonable figure. Now,
boys, let nobody go out till I get to the door. The court is adjourned.
[He goes out].
STRAPPER [to Feemy, as he goes to the door] I'm done with you. Do you
hear? I'm done with you. [He goes out sulkily].
FEEMY [calling after him] As if I cared about a stingy brat like you! Go
back to the freckled maypole you left for me: you've been fretting for
her long enough.
THE FOREMAN [To Blanco, on his way out] A man like you makes me sick.
Just sick. [Blanco makes no sign. The Foreman spits disgustedly, and
follows Strapper out. The Jurymen leave the box, except Nestor, who
collapses in a drunken sleep].
BLANCO [Suddenly rushing from the bar to the table and jumping up on
it] Boys, I'm going to preach you a sermon on the moral of this day's
proceedings.
THE BOYS [crowding round him] Yes: lets have a sermon. Go ahead, Blanco.
Silence for Elder Blanco. Tune the organ. Let us pray.
NESTOR [staggering out of his sleep] Never hold up your head in this
town again. I'm done with you.
BLANCO [pointing inexorably to Nestor] Drunk in church. Disturbing the
preacher. Hand him out.
THE BOYS [chivying Nestor out] Now, Nestor, outside. Outside, Nestor.
Out you go. Get your subscription ready for the Sheriff. Skiddoo,
Nestor.
NESTOR. Afraid to be hanged! Afraid to be hanged! [At the door] Coward!
[He is thrown out].
BLANCO. Dearly beloved brethren--
A BOY. Same to you, Blanco. [Laughter].
BLANCO. And many of them. Boys: this is a rotten world.
ANOTHER BOY. Lord have mercy on us, miserable sinners. [More laughter].
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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