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"It would be impossible to think of a mister galloping about over the foothills, swinging his lariat, or smashing bottles with his six-shooter. Mister fits in with the conventions; with tailors and perfume and evening dress, but it doesn't seem to have any place in the foothills." "You're right," Conward agreed. "Mister has no place on horseback.
Kiddie fired at two of them, and was shifting his aim to a third, when he realized that they were in flight that they were being pursued by a horseman who had newly come upon the scene, and who was firing at them with his six-shooter. Only now did Kiddie reflect that in the ordinary course of his eastward bound trip he would have met the westward going Express rider just at about this same place.
"Didn't I tell you!" he crowed and, scuttling back to get his six-shooter, he went out and began re-locating claims. That was the beginning. The real rush came later when the pumps began to throb in the Paymaster. A stream of water like a sheet of silver flowed down the side of the dump and as if it's touch had brought forth men from the desert sands, the old-timers came drifting in.
But into it had come a note that made Dale's face turn pale and caused the bodies of the men in the group to stiffen. "Only you, Dale," Sanderson repeated. His right hand was at his hip, resting lightly on the butt of the six-shooter that reposed in its holster. "I've always wanted to test the idea of whether a crook like you thought more of what he was doin' than he did of his own life.
He might have shot the raider; but he never thought of such a thing. The distance swiftly lessened. Plain it was the raider could not make the opening ahead of Ladd. He saw it and swerved to the left, emptying his six-shooter as he turned. His dark face gleamed as he flashed by Gale. Blanco Sol thundered across. Then the race became straight away up the valley.
Suddenly the glass door opened. The money-lender heard the handle move. "Eh, what is it, Rodgers?" he said, in a displeased tone. As he spoke he peered through the smoke. "What d'you want?" he exclaimed angrily. Then he rubbed his eyes and craned forward only to fall back again with a muttered curse. He had stared into the muzzle of a heavy six-shooter.
She wore a cartridge-belt slung jauntily across her hips and from it hung a holster of stiff new leather with the top flap open to show the butt of a man-sized forty-five caliber six-shooter her first gun. Not a man of the gang but had loaned her his guns time and again, but they had never dreamed of giving her a weapon of her own.
But Doble clung to his weapon as a lost cow does to a 'dobe water-hole in the desert. Bob got a grip on his arm and twisted till he screamed with pain. He did a head spin and escaped. One hundred and sixty pounds of steel-muscled cowpuncher landed on his midriff and the six-shooter went clattering away to a far corner of the room. Bob dived for the revolver, Doble for the door.
"Don't come too close, gentlemen," growled the Wolf. Then I saw one of the men raise a six-shooter to aim at the defiant figure that faced them. I gave a spring and with one blow laid the man on the floor. There was a flash of fire as he fell, and a deafening noise was in my ears. Men all about me were striking at me.
He flashed back a smile, but as the door closed behind him Rimrock answered by showing his teeth. He went to a safe that stood in the room and took out a single envelope. Then he strapped on his shabby old six-shooter, stepped quietly out and was gone.
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