"You've no right to say that," he told her, harshly. "You've plumb
overstepped yourself, ma'am, and--I reckon you've formed quite a
wrong opinion of me and of the facts. Let me tell you something
about that killing and about myself, so you'll have it all
straight before you bring in your verdict. You say Panfilo was
unarmed, and you call it--murder. He had his six-shooter and he
used it; he had the darkness and the swiftest horse, too. He
intended to ambush me and release his companion, but I forced his
hand; so it ain't what _I'd_ call murder. Now about myself:
Panfilo isn't the first man I've killed, and he may not be the
last, but I haven't lost any sleep over it, and I'd have killed
him just as quick if I hadn't been an officer. That's the kind of
man I am, and you may as well know it. I--"
"You are utterly ruthless."
"Yes'm!"
"You left him there without burial."
Law shrugged impatiently. "What's the difference? He's there to
stay; and he's just as dead under the stars as he'd be under the
sand. I'd rather lie facing the sky than the grass roots."
"But--you must have known it would get out, sometime. This puts
both of us in a very bad light.
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