every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
these things."

Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake's kitchen
hatchet.

With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
that firearm on the retired list for good.

"Give me my pistol, boy!" choked Black, running up.

"Certainly," rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
ruined firearm. "I don't want it. I've no use for such things"

Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.

"Here, what's the trouble?" cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
collar of his flannel shirt.

"Nothing much, sir," laughed Tom. "Mr. Black has just been showing
me how bad men behave out in this part of the country."

"This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston," declared Black
hotly. "Do you see what he has done to my revolvers"