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fire in the stove； dried out； and were happy。 After a square mealand a
dry oneI reminded Jed Parker of his promise； and so； sitting cross…legged
on his 〃so…gun〃 in the middle of the floor； he told us the following yarn：
There's a good deal of romance been written about the 〃bad man；〃 and
there's about the same amount of nonsense。 The bad man is justa plain
murderer； neither more nor less。 He never does get into a real； good；
plain； stand…up gunfight if he can possibly help it。 His killin's are done
from behind a door； or when he's got his man dead to rights。 There's Sam
Cook。 You've all heard of him。 He had nerve； of course； and when he
was backed into a corner he made good； he was sure sudden death with a
gun。 But when he went for a man deliberate； he didn't take no special
chances。 For a while he was marshal at Willets。 Pretty soon it was
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noted that there was a heap of cases of resisting arrest； where Sam as
marshal had to shoot； and that those cases almost always happened to be
his personal enemies。 Of course； that might be all right； but it looked
suspicious。 Then one day he killed poor old Max Schmidt out behind his
own saloon。 Called him out and shot him in the stomach。 Said Max
resisted arrest on a warrant for keepin' open out of hours！ That was a
sweet warrant to take out in Willets； anyway！ Mrs。 Schmidt always
claimed that she say that deal played； and that； while they were talkin'
perfectly peacable； Cook let drive from the hip at about two yards' range。
Anyway； we decided we needed another marshal。 Nothin' else was ever
done； for the Vigilantes hadn't been formed； and your individual and
decent citizen doesn't care to be marked by a gun of that stripe。
Leastwise； unless he wants to go in for bad…man methods and do a little
ambusheein' on his own account。
The point is； that these yere bad men are a low…down； miserable
proposition； and plain； cold…blood murderers； willin' to wait for a sure
thing； and without no compunctions whatsoever。 The bad man takes you
unawares； when you're sleepin'； or talkin'； or drinkin'； or lookin' to see
what for a day it's goin' to be； anyway。 He don't give you no show； and
sooner or later he's goin' to get you in the safest and easiest way for
himself。 There ain't no romance about that。
And； until you've seen a few men called out of their shacks for a
friendly conversation； and shot when they happen to look away； or asked
for a drink of water； and killed when they stoop to the spring； or potted
from behind as they go into a room； it's pretty hard to believe that any man
can he so plumb lackin' in fair play or pity or just natural humanity。
As you boys know； I come in from Texas to Buck Johnson's about ten
year back。 I had a pretty good mount of ponies that I knew； and I hated
to let them go at prices they were offerin' then； so I made up my mind to
ride across and bring them in with me。 It wasn't so awful far； and I
figured that I'd like to take in what New Mexico looked like anyway。
About down by Albuquerque I tracked up with another outfit headed
my way。 There was five of them； three men； and a woman； and a yearlin'
baby。 They had a dozen hosses； and that was about all I could see。
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There was only two packed； and no wagon。 I suppose the whole outfit
pots； pans； and kettleswas worth five dollars。 It was just supper when I
run across them； and it didn't take more'n one look to discover that flour；
coffee； sugar； and salt was all they carried。 A yearlin' carcass； half…
skinned； lay near； and the fry…pan was； full of meat。
〃Howdy； strangers；〃 says I； ridin' up。
They nodded a little； but didn't say nothin'。 My hosses fell to grazin'；
and I eased myself around in my saddle； and made a cigareet。 The men
was tall； lank fellows； with kind of sullen faces； and sly； shifty eyes； the
woman was dirty and generally mussed up。 I knowed that sort all right。
Texas was gettin' too many fences for them。 〃Havin' supper？〃 says I；
cheerful。
One of 'em grunted 〃Yes〃 at me； and； after a while； the biggest asked
me very grudgin' if I wouldn't light and eat； I told them 〃No；〃 that I was
travellin' in the cool of the evenin'。
〃You seem to have more meat than you need； though；〃 says I。 〃I
could use a little of that。〃
〃Help yourself；〃 says they。 〃It's a maverick we come across。〃
I took a steak； and noted that the hide had been mighty well cut to
ribbons around the flanks and that the head was gone。
〃Well；〃 says I to the carcass； 〃No one's going to be able to swear
whether you're a maverick or not； but I bet you knew the feel of a brandin'
iron all right。〃
I gave them a thank…you； and climbed on again。 My hosses acted
some surprised at bein' gathered up again； but I couldn't help that。
〃It looks like a plumb imposition； cavallos；〃 says I to them； 〃after an
all…day； but you sure don't want to join that outfit any more than I do the
angels； and if we camp here we're likely to do both。〃
I didn't see them any more after that until I'd hit the Lazy Y； and had
started in runnin' cattle in the Soda Springs Valley。 Larry Eagen and I
rode together those days； and that's how I got to know him pretty well。
One day； over in the Elm Flat； we ran smack on this Texas outfit again；
headed north。 This time I was on my own range； and I knew where I
stood； so I could show a little more curiosity in the case。
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〃Well； you got this far；〃 says I。
〃Yes；〃 says they。
〃Where you headed？〃
〃Over towards the hills。〃
〃What to do？〃
〃Make a ranch； raise some truck；