Well, now you've seen it. When you practice it, hold your elbow tight
against your ribs to steady your gun while you slap the hammer back. For
you, Mr. Jim--I see you've landed your six shots; but some of 'em are
mighty close to the edge of your little old plate. Poor shootin'! Poor
shootin'! You ought to practice more. As for speed, I judge I can do six
shots while you're making four. But I thought I'd best not--to-day. Son,
pick up your gun, and get your money from Shorty."

Mr. Jim picked up his gun and threw out the empty shells. He glared
savagely at Mr. Johnson, now seated happily on his saddle.

"If I just had hold of you--you benched-legged hound! Curse your soul,
what do you mean by it?" snarled Jim.

"Oh, I was just a-thinkin'," responded Pete lightly. "Thinkin' how
helpless I'd be with you two big huskies, here with my gun empty. Don't
snicker, Bill! That's rude of you. Your pardner's feeling plenty bad
enough without that. He looks it. Mr. Bill, I'll bet a blue shirt you
told the Jim-person to wait and see if I wouldn't take a little siesta,
and you'd get me whilst I was snoozing. You lose, then. I never sleep.
Tex, for the love of Mike, do look at Bill's face; and Bill, you look at
Mr. Jim, from Texas! Guilty as charged! Your scheme, was it, Texas? And
Shorty Bill, he told you so? Why, you poor toddling innocents, you won't
never prosper as crooks! Your faces are too honest.

"And that frame-up of yours--oh, that was a loo-loo bird! Livin' together
and didn't know which was the best shot--likely! And every tin can in
sight shot full of holes and testifyin' against you! Think I'm blind,
hey? Even your horses give you away. Never batted an eyelash durin' that
whole cannonade. They've been hearin' forty-fives pretty reg'lar, them