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He removed it and flicked the ash from the end, then inspected the results and snapped it again, and the downward move of his wrist was carried through in a smooth sweep for his gun. It flashed into his hand but his knees sagged under him as a forty-five slug struck him an inch above the buckle of his belt. Even as he toppled forward he fired, and Harris's gun barked again.

At that moment the rapid beat of hoofs on the hard trail outside halted Colter in his tracks. "Hell!" he exclaimed. "An' who's that?" With a fierce action he flung the remnants of Ellen's blouse in her face and turned to leap out the door. Jean saw Ellen catch the blouse and try to wrap it around her, while she sagged against the wall and stared at the door.

The white paint on the two square wooden columns of the gateway had peeled and flaked, and the columns themselves had rotted at the base into broken fangs, and hung loosely upon their inner-posts; one of them sagged sidewise from the weight of the open gate which had long ago settled down into the burdocks and wild parsley that bordered the weedy driveway.

He saw her clasp her hands and turn towards the door when the sight of her was eclipsed by the bulk of her jailer. "So it is you, Señor Jim, with the light head." "It isn't red anyhow," he replied with humorous indignation. "Ha, ha," she laughed, "you scored that time anyhow." Jim took this opportunity to throw his weight against the door with all his strength; it sagged, but the bar held.

I could only faintly discern the dim trees; the limbs of the spruce, which partially protected me, sagged down to my head with their burden; I had but to reach out my hand for a snowball. Both the wind and snow seemed warm. The great flakes were like swan feathers on a summer breeze. There was something joyous in the whirl of snow and roar of wind.

The sack rose and fell as if something under it was squirming about convulsively. But to Blake's surprise it did not fall aside and disclose that which was making the violent movement. The squirming lessened. He grasped an outer corner of the sack and jerked it upward. It failed to flip into the air. The lower part sagged heavily. The squirmer was inside and the mouth of the sack was tied fast.

It was their job to make a short stiff resistance, then fly in headlong retreat, enticing the Union riders into the waiting ambush. "Who's this heah Dilly?" Kirby wanted to know. "Some Yankee?" Drew laughed. "Might be." He sagged a little in the saddle. Sleep during the past ten days had come in small snatches.

Jimmie Dale's tones were conversational. "Don't get up," said Jimmie Dale coolly. "And take your hand off that money!" The Weasel, whose back had been to the door, squirmed around in his chair and in his turn stared into the muzzle of Jimmie Dale's revolver, while his jaw dropped and sagged. "Good-evening, Weasel," observed Jimmie Dale casually. "I seem to be in luck to-night.

The Irishman's eyes were wide open, and there was pain, and also a grin, about his mouth. "I'm glad you're sorry," he said. "I'd hate to have a bad opinion of you, McKay. But you're a rotten shot!" His body sagged heavily, and the grin slowly left his lips, and a moan came from between them. He struggled and spoke. "It may be you'll want help, McKay.

"Well, I guess this must be Hedge-gutheridge all right, in spite of the guard's mispronunciation of its euphonious name," remarked Holmes, stepping off the train onto the decayed platform, which sagged perilously under his athletic tread.