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Little Jim was always for the main chance. "I'm all hooked up to hit the trail, dad." In his small blue overalls and jumper, in his alert and manful attitude, Little Jim was a pocket edition of his father. "Where's your shootin'-iron?" queried Big Jim jokingly. "Why, she's standin' in the corner, aside of yours. A man don't pack his shootin'-iron in his bed-roll when he hits the trail.
A person needs must have a bull hide, to travel with a bull train, I saw. "Gimme another, boys, and I'll hit it in the nose," he growled sheepishly; but they shoved him aside. "No, no. Pilgrim's turn. Fetch on yore shootin'-iron, young feller. Thar's yore turkey. Show us why you're packin' all that hardware."
Finally Buffle broke the silence by saying: "I'd give my last ounce, and my shootin'-iron besides, mum, ef I could put yer on his trail; but I can't remember no such man; ken you, fellers?" Three melancholy nods replied in the negative. "I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen," said Mrs. Berryn. "I will go back to the crossing and take the next stage. Perhaps, Mr.
"An' he lef' me a shootin'-iron, in case of a fox, or a wolf, or suthin' kem along. 'Bout sunset the neighbors kem. An' till then I sot thar keepin' watch, an' a-viewin' the witch-face 'crost the Cove, plumb till the sun went down." She bowed her head again on her arm, and a momentary silence ensued.
Colonel Harrison, knowing that the only chance for escape was by the river, had lined the banks with men, and, as Archie neared the woods, a voice directly in front of him called out: "It's all up now, Yank! Drop that shootin'-iron, or you're a gone sucker!" Archie's heart fairly came up into his mouth.
"Nobody henders your gettin' at me," said Mr. Bickford composedly. "But that ain't answerin' my question." "If I didn't respect them two gentlemen too much, I'd shoot you where you stand," said the Pike man. "I've got a shootin'-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I'm goin' to use it if necessary."
Now the democratic sentiment in this country is bred in the bone, and few of its denizens have so diluted it with Christian grace as to willingly acknowledge a superior. In such a coterie as this "eating humble-pie" is done only at the muzzle of a "shootin'-iron."
As to drinkin', why, I'd swear off myself, ef 'twud make me hold a candle to him. Went to old Bermuda t'other day, when he was ravin' tight and layin' for Butcher Pete with a shootin'-iron, an' he actilly talked Bermuda into soakin' his head an' turnin' in ev'rybody else was afeared to go nigh old Bermuda that day."
"Spies don't kem climbin' down that thar path o' yourn in full view through the water" for the landscape was as visible through the thin falling sheet as if it had been the slightly corrugated glass of a window "do they?" Yerby asked, with a jocose intonation. "That thar shootin'-iron o' yourn liked ter hev skeered me ter death whenst I fust seen it."
Now, if Wild Bill had come along an' pushed a shootin'-iron into your map, an' said you'll handle Zip's kiddies wal, I ask you, wot 'ud you ha' done?" "Told him to git his head cooled some," retorted Sandy promptly. "Ah, guess you bin saved a heap o' trouble," murmured Sunny. "But if you hadn't said that which you said you would ha' said an' you'd got busy as he suggested wal, what then?"
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