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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"


Murphy stared at him stupidly, the cunning of incipient insanity in his
eyes. "En' whar--do ye expect--me ter say--all this, pervidin', of
course--I wus fule 'nough--ter do it?"
"Up yonder before Custer and the officers of the Seventh, when we get
in."
"They'd nab me--likely."
"Now, see here, you say it is impossible for them to touch you, because
the case is closed legally. Now, you do not care very much for the
opinion of others, while from every other standpoint you feel perfectly
safe. But I 've had to suffer for your crime, Murphy, suffer for
fifteen years, ten of them behind stone walls; and there are others who
have suffered with me. It has cost me love, home, all that a man holds
dear. I 've borne this punishment for you, paid the penalty of your
act to the full satisfaction of the law. The very least you can do in
ordinary decency is to speak the truth now. It will not hurt you, but
it will lift me out of hell."
Murphy's eyes were cunning, treacherously shifting under the thatch of
his heavy brows; he was like an old rat seeking for any hole of refuge.
"Well--maybe I might. Anyhow, I'll go on--with ye.


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