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Updated: May 11, 2025
They wuz goin' to be mortified to death by the idee if carried out and they told me in confidence and the woodhouse kitchen, "It must be stopped!" And I sez, "How is it goin' to be stopped? I've handled every weepon I know how to lay holt on.
That is one strong weepon to kill the evil confine the bizness to the low and vile and show the world that you, a Methodist and a deacon, put the bizness right where it belongs, with murder and all wickedness, not as you are sayin' now by your example, it is right and I will protect it." "Well," sez Josiah, as sot as a old hen settin' on a brick bat, "it is law; Ury has settled it."
The fellow saw something in the attitude of the lad to give him cause for prudence; and he immediately drew up, throwing out both hands in a sudden spasm of alarm. "Hi! hold on thar, sonny, don't ye pull them triggers hard! It'd be jest murder, 'cause I ain't got nary weepon by me, I swar. I didn't go ter mean any thin' hard.
'Up at the dog-town, I answered laconically. 'Kill him yourself? How come you to have a weepon? 'We'd been up to Russian Peter's, to borrow a spade for Ambrosch. Otto shook the ashes out of his pipe and squatted down to count the rattles. 'It was just luck you had a tool, he said cautiously. 'Gosh! I wouldn't want to do any business with that fellow myself, unless I had a fence-post along.
As an ordinary man would lift a child's airgun, the giant tossed the rifle to a firing position, snuggled the butt against his shoulder, and leaned his gray-bearded cheek on it affectionately. Finally he lowered it regretfully to the ground, and remarked, with the suggestion of a sigh, "This hyar shor' air a mighty purty weepon, doctor.
Limp as he was so you'd a-thought there wasn't any yell in him Boston let off a yell that likely was heard clear across the mesa at San Juan! "Shoot!" says the Hen. "I can't. I'm too frightened. Shoot quick or we are lost!" She let go of him, so he could reach down to where he'd spilled his gun-shop and get a weepon; but Boston wasn't on the shoot, and he hadn't no use for weepons just then.
Thar's the lively tones of a Winchester which starts the canyon's echoes to talkin'. That rifle ain't forty foot away, an' it speaks three times before ever you- all, son, could snap your fingers. An' that weepon don't make them observations in vain. It ain't firin' no salootes. Quick as is the work, the sights shifts to a new target every time.
Bringin' the weepon to a 'Right Shoulder' an' with my mind relieved, I gives the word to my mule-skinner who's onconscious of the transactions in life an' death goin' on behind his back an' with that, we-all takes up our march an' soon comes up on the escort where it's ag'in fixed firm in the snow about a furlong to the fore.
"Now, little 'un, it's this away in shootin' a weepon like this it's the aim that counts most. But with my Colts now the self-actin' ones you've got to cal'c'late chiefly on another thing a kinder thing that ain't in the books the instinct that makes the han' an' the eye act together an' 'lowin', at the same time, for the leverage on the trigger." The lad's face glowed with excitement.
"'Stranger, goes on Texas, turnin' to the Signal party, an' his hand drops on his gun, an' he breathes loud like a buffalo; 'nothin' but blood is goin' to do me now. If I was troo to myse'f at this moment, I'd take a knife an' shorely split you like a mackerel. But I restrains myse'f; also I don't notice no weepon onto you.
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