"
"Go on," I responded, somewhat overcome by this instance of the
primitive simplicity with which New Mexico matrimonial disputes were
managed, and he continued:
"Well, two men come ridin' in to see me to borrow my guns. My guns was
Colt's self-cockers. It was a new thing then, an they was the only ones
in town. These come to me, and 'Simpson,' says they, 'we want to borrow
your guns; we are goin' to kill Fowler.'
"'Hold on for a moment,' said I, 'I am willin' to lend you them guns,
but I ain't goin' to know what you 'r' goin' to do with them, no sir;
but of course you can have the guns.'" Here my friend's face lightened
pleasantly, and he continued:
"Well, you may easily believe I felt surprised next day when Fowler come
ridin' in, and, says he, 'Simpson, here's your guns!' He had shot them
two men! 'Well, Fowler,' says I, 'if I had known them men was after you,
I'd never have let them have them guns nohow,' says I. That wasn't true,
for I did know it, but there was no cause to tell him that.
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