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doc#142 | We'll talk over at your office". </p><p> " | Brannon | , I warn you"! "Let's go, Marshal", Brannon |
doc#142 | on Main Street. A lamp burned inside, but | Brannon | , peering through the window, saw that the |
doc#142 | key. Get it out"! </p><p> "Damned if I will. | Brannon | , you've assaulted a law officer and" -- |
doc#142 | ". </p><p> It seemed long, at least to Tom | Brannon | . He and Hogan waited by the door, one to |
doc#142 | without success to keep her thoughts off Tom | Brannon | . </p><p> Tom Brannon had caught up with the |
doc#142 | children, Conchita let her gaze seek Tom | Brannon | . Tomas, she called him -- as the Mexican |
doc#142 | said. "Every last one of you. As for you, | Brannon | " -- </p><p> "Put your gun on the desk, Marshal |
doc#142 | the hotel porch, lifted a hand in signal. | Brannon | dismounted and climbed the steps. </p><p> |
doc#142 | her thoughts off Tom Brannon. </p><p> Tom | Brannon | had caught up with the outfit shortly after |
doc#142 | Jesse Macklin in the hotel dining room. | Brannon | had no slicker. He'd put on his old brown |
doc#142 | bluff failed and they ran into trouble, | Brannon | had told the others, they would withdraw |
doc#142 | Harper from interfering. The others followed | Brannon | inside. They trailed him across the wide |
doc#142 | arms. He looked at each of them in turn, | Brannon | last of all. </p><p> "I'll remember you", |
doc#142 | . </p><p> "Wait a little while. Let Senora | Brannon | live in her father's house for a time. |
doc#142 | should withdraw my advice -- no"? </p><p> | Brannon | looked at Hank Maguire. "And you? What |
doc#142 | here in my pocket". </p><p> "Get it out", | Brannon | ordered. Then, as Macklin obeyed: "Now |
doc#142 | the deputy's deceased father. </p><p> The | Brannon | outfit -- known as the Slash-B because |
doc#142 | side of the street. They reined in there, | Brannon | remaining in the saddle while Hogan went |
doc#142 | Billie had unhitched the mules from both Tom | Brannon | 's and his father's wagon. Hank had gathered |
doc#142 | n't press your luck, badge-toter". </p><p> | Brannon | said, "Now the key to the lockup, Marshal |