Nebraska had ever been shaded.

The girl was watching his face. "Don't begin to get the notion you
beat him to it," she advised, divining his thought. "He was stunned
sort of that first time, an' the second time his gun caught a little.
Nebraska is slow lightnin' on the pull. Keep thinkin' you was lucky
like you done at first."

Racey laughed shamefacedly. "Yo're too much of a mind reader for me.
But what you telling all this to me for? I ain't the sheriff with a
warrant for Nebraska Jones."

"I'm telling you so you'll know what to expect. So you'll get out of
town and stay out. Because, shore as yo're a foot high, you won't live
a minute longer than is plumb necessary if you don't."

"I beat Nebraska once, and he won't get well of that lead in the
shoulder so jo-awful soon."

"Can you beat a shot in the dark? Can you dodge a knife in the night?
It ain't a question of Nebraska Jones himself. It's the gang he's
managed to pick up in this town. They are meaner than a nest of cross
rattlesnakes. I know 'em. I know what they'll do. Right this minute
they're fixing up some way to give you yore come-uppance."

"Think so?"

"Think so! Say, would I come traipsing out here just for my health--or
yores? Figure it out."