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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Now isn't he a sweet specimen to
lead in the avenging of a supposed crime?"
Whatever else Colton might have failed in, he was a man of action.
Like a flash his gun flew to the level, but was instantly knocked aside
by the grizzled old miner standing next him.
"None o' that, Ben," he growled, warningly. "It don't never pay to
shoot holes in Uncle Sam."
Brant smiled. He was not there just then to fight, but to secure delay
until his own men could arrive, and to turn aside the fierce mob spirit
if such a result was found possible. He knew thoroughly the class of
men with whom he dealt, and he understood likewise the wholesome power
of his uniform.
"I really would enjoy accommodating you, Colton," he said, coolly,
feeling much more at ease, "but I never fight personal battles with
such fellows as you. And now, you other men, it is about time you woke
up to the facts of this matter. A couple of hundred of you chasing
after two men, one an officer of the law doing his sworn duty, and the
other innocent of any crime. I should imagine you would feel proud of
your job."
"Innocent? Hell!"
"That is what I said.


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