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That is an old style revolver, you see, vintage of 1880 or thereabouts, I should say. Not a self-cocker. And, you'll notice it isn't cocked. So, even if you had stuck to your lethal threat and had pulled the trigger ever so hard, I'd still be more or less alive. You'll excuse me for mentioning it," he ended in apology, noting her crestfallen air.
His head was raised and he was regarding us suspiciously from his small green eyes. I put down my rifle in disgust, and took up my revolver. I had no idea of wasting a hundred and ten grains of powder on a baby. I took careful aim and fired. The revolver was a self-cocker, and yet before I could fire again, he had whirled about and was out of reach. He was gone and I drew a long breath.
It was wonderful work, rattling fire, quicker than a self-cocker even. He selected another weapon. From a pile of tomato-cans he took one and tossed it into the air. Before it had fallen he had perforated it twice, and as it rolled along the floor he helped its progression by four more bullets which left streams of tomato-juice where they had hit. The room was full of smoke.
"Shoot! shoot! shoot!" shouted Moran rapidly. Wilbur's revolver was a self-cocker. He raised it again, drawing hard on the trigger as he did so. It roared and leaped in his hand, and a whiff of burned powder came to his nostrils. Then Wilbur was astonished to hear himself shout at the top of his voice: "Come on now, get into them get into them now, everybody!"
When Brown returned with the revolver his master took it and examined it. "Be careful, sir," said Brown, anxiously. "You know it's a self-cocker, sir." "A what?" "A self-cocking revolver, sir" trying to repress his astonishment at the question his master asked about a weapon with which he should have been familiar. "Show me what you mean," said Allen, handing back the revolver.
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