"You swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth, so-help-you-God?"
Swift, his purplish eyes wide and clear and honest as the gaze of a
baby, calmly affirmed that he did.
Jack grinned and lazily fanned the smoke of his cigarette away, so
that he might the better gaze upon this man who was about to tell
the whole truth and nothing else. He caught Swift's eye and added
a sneering lift to the smile; and Swift's eyes changed from bland
innocence to hate triumphant.
"Mr. Swift, you will now relate to us the circumstances of this
affair, truthfully, in the order of their happening," directed the
deep voice of the Captain.
Mr. Swift carefully eased his wounded arm in its sling, turned his
innocent gaze upon the crowd, and began:
"Texas, Rawhide, and myself were crossing the sandy stretch south of
town about noon, when we met this chap--the stranger there." He nodded
slightly toward the boy. "I was walking behind the other two, but I
heard Rawhide say: 'Hello, son, any luck in the diggin's?' The kid
said: 'None of your damn business!' That made Rawhide kinda mad, being
spoke to that way when he just meant to be friendly, and he told the
kid he better keep a civil tongue in his head if he wanted to get
along smooth--or words to that effect. I don't," explained Mr. Swift
virtuously, "remember the exact words, because I was looking at the
fellow and wondering what made him so surly.
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