As I understand it, Chaney… or Chelmsford, as he called himshelf in Texas… shot the senator’s dog. When the senator remonstrated, Chelmsford shot him as well. You could argue that the shooting of the dog was merely an instance of malum prohibitum, but the shooting of a senator is indubitably an instance of malum in se.
I thought you were going to say the sun was in your eyes. That is to say, your EYE.
You are getting ready to show your ignorance now, Cogburn. I don’t mind a little personal chaffing but I won’t hear anything against the Ranger troop from a man like you.
My Appaloosa will be galloping when that big American stud of yours is winded and collapsed. Now make another joke about it. You are only trying to put on a show for this girl Mattie with what you must think is a keen tongue.
You give out very little sugar with your pronouncements. While I sat there watchin’ I gave some thought to stealin’ a kiss… though you are very young, and sick… and unattractive to boot. But now I have a mind to give you five or six good licks with my belt.
I am not accustomed to so large a fire. In Texas, we’ll make do with a fire of little more than twigs… buffalo chips. Heat the night’s ration of beans. And it is Ranger policy never to make your camp in the same place as your cook fire. Very imprudent to make your presence known in unsettled country.
I thought you gonna say the sun was in your eyes. That is to say, your Eye!
It is you who have nothing to offer, Cogburn! A sad picture indeed. This is no longer a manhunt, it is a debauch. The Texas Ranger presses on… alone.
That is not my worry. You have earned your spurs, that is clear enough… . you have been a regular old hand on the trail. But Cogburn is right, even if I would not give him the satisfaction of conceding it. The trail is cold, and I am… considerably diminished.
I would go on in your company if there were clear way to go. But we would be striking out blindly. Chelmsford is gone. We have chased him right off the map. There is nothing for it. I am bound for Texas, and it is time for you to go home too… . The marshal, when he sobers, is your way back.
I was within three hundred yards of Chelmsford once. The closest I have been. With a Sharp’s carbine that is within range, but I was mounted and had the choice of firing off-hand or dismounting to shoot from rest, which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance. I fired mounted… and fired wide.
The Sharp’s carbine is an instrument of uncanny balance and precision.
