Hervey waited a moment for that heat of defiance to die away. Then he
said with the quiet of certainty: "No use, Jordan. No use at all.
Shorty seen this gent do some shooting on the way up to the ranch. He
pulled on a squirrel that dodged across the trail. First slug knocked
dust into the squirrel's belly-fur and the second chipped off his tail.
Both of them slugs would have landed dead-center in a target as big as
the body of a man!"

He paused again. He could hear the heavy breathing of Oliver Jordan and
the figure of the driver swayed a little back and forth in the seat as a
man will do when his mind is swinging from one alternative to another.

"He done that shooting from the hip," added Hervey, as though by
afterthought.

There was a gasp from Jordan.

"Good God, Lew! You don't mean that!"

"That's what he done the shooting for--to show Shorty how to get off a
quick shot. Shorty says he got his gun out and fired inside the time
it'd take a common gun-man to wink twice. And that's why you and me have
got to face him together, chief. You know I ain't particular yaller. But
I'd as soon tackle a machine gun with a pea-shooter as run into this
Perris all by myself. He's bad medicine, chief!"

"Two to one. That'd be worse'n murder, Lew. Neither you nor me could
ever hold up a head around these parts again if the two of us jumped one
gent."