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With the pistol you see in my holster here, I could send six bullets through your body, before you could bring your rifle to your shoulder. What would you call that? Sheer cowardice, would it not be; and murder too?"
I'm going to take your revolver," warned Lieutenant Wingate, pressing his own revolver against the mountaineer's back. He then jerked the fellow's weapon from its holster and tossed it behind him. Nora picked it up. "Turn around!" The mountaineer faced him, his face contorted with deadly rage. "I'll kill ye fer this 'ere!" threatened the man. "Not this evening you won't. Listen to me, Mister Man.
"Yes, surely I am going to see you safely home." Suddenly he turned back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door. "You can not go!" "Why?" "Because " He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again. "Because they will kill you!" The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.
And so, with his gun again in its holster, Texas threw himself astride his Pinto pony and loped down toward the sloping banks of the Rio Grande del Norte. A quarter of a mile from town he halted on the bare knob of a low hill and took a lingering look at the pretentious house amid the green surroundings.
That was the reason he had been so quiescent this far; it was why he made no objection when Braman passed his hands over his clothing in search of other weapons, after his pistol had been lifted from its holster by the banker. "Now get out of here and lock the doors!" ordered Corrigan. "And let nobody come in!" Braman retired, grinning expectantly.
Then the Kentuckian flushed and slammed his weapon back into the holster. This was the buckskinned man who had whooped the train into town that morning. "Mite quick to show your iron, ain’t you?" There was a chill in the question, and Drew saw that the long rifle was still held at alert by its owner. "Cat-footin’ up on a man ought to make you expect somethin’ of a reception," Drew countered.
Dick took the .22 automatic rifle from his saddle- holster, and with Paula advanced softly to a clump of redwoods on the edge of the meadow. They disposed themselves in the shade and gazed out across the meadow to the steep slope of hill that came down to it a hundred and fifty yards away.
She did this twice, then reloaded and thrust the revolver into its holster. "It is doubtful if my shots can be heard, but I have the satisfaction of knowing that some one probably is out looking for me. We'll go in under our own power. They shan't say that we could not find our way home in broad daylight." The rifle signal shots were repeated shortly after Grace got started again.
We had luffed a bit to let the Orchid draw out ahead, and now all I seemed to see was her slowly nearing rail; twenty feet away, fifteen, ten. My rifle had been laid aside, and I felt to see that my automatic was snugly nested in its holster. Five feet, four, three we were about to touch! With a bound I cleared my shelter just as the rails were within spanning distance, and vaulted over.
We've just walked into a trap. I'll take my chance outside." Dave reached forward and lifted one of Shorty's guns from its holster. "You'll stay right here, Dillon. We didn't make it one minute too soon. The whole hill out there's roaring." "I'll take my chance out there. That's my lookout," said the man, moving toward the entrance. "No. You'll stay here."
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