I held them above my head.
A pause. Then:
“Are you going to hand out your money or not?”
I dropped my hands to my pockets and said:
Certainly! I—”
“Put up your hands! Do you want your head blown off? Higher!”
I put them above my head again.
Another pause.
Are you going to hand out your money or not? Ah-ah—again? Put up your hands! By George, you want the head shot off you awful bad!”
“Well, friend, I’m trying my best to please you. You tell me to give up my money, and when I reach for it you tell me to put up my hands. If you would only—. Oh, now—don’t! All six of you at me! That other man will get away while.—Now please take some of those revolvers out of my face—do, if you please! Every time one of them clicks, my liver comes up into my throat! If you have a mother—any of you—or if any of you have ever had a mother—or a—grandmother—or a—”