"I thought you might be trying out my gun," repeated Terry. "Are you
entirely satisfied?"
He leaned a little in the saddle. Slim moistened his lips. It was a hard
question to answer. The man in the saddle had become a quivering bundle
of nerves; Slim could see the twitching of the lips, and he knew what it
meant. Instinctively he fingered one of the broad bright buttons of his
shirt. A man who could hit a glittering thrown stone would undoubtedly be
able to hit that stationary button. The thought had elements in it that
were decidedly unpleasant. But he had gone too far. He dared not recede
now if he wished to hold up his head again among his fellows--and fear of
death had never yet controlled the actions of Slim Dugan.
"I dunno," he remarked carelessly. "I'm a sort of curious gent. It takes
more than one lucky shot to make me see the light."
The lips of Terry worked a moment. The companions of Slim Dugan scattered
of one accord to either side. There was no doubting the gravity of the
crisis which had so suddenly sprung up. As for Joe Pollard, he stood in
the doorway in the direct line projected from Terry to Slim and beyond.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261