an' AT 'am. An' how we kin do it without him seein' us. Goin'
t' be kinda ticklish--but it ain't the first ticklish job Casey
Ryan ever tackled."

"It can't be did," Barney stated flatly. "An' if it could be
did, I wouldn't do it. I ain't as easy t' miss as what you be.
I got bulk."

"A hole bored through your tallow might mebbe do you good," Casey
suggested harshly. "Might let in a little sand. You can't never
tell--"

"My vitals," said Barney with dignity, "is just as close to the
surface as what your vitals be. I ain't so fat--I'm big. An' I
got all the sand I need. I also have got sense, which some men
lacks"

"What yuh figurin' on doin'?" Casey wanted to know. "Set here
under a bush an' let 'em pick yuh up same as they would a
cottontail, mebbe? We got a hull night to work in, an' Casey's
eyes is as good as anybody's in the dark. More'n that, Casey's
six-gun kin shoot just as hard an' fast as a rifle--let 'im git
close enough."

Barney did not want to be left alone and said so frankly.
Neither did he want to climb the butte. He could see no possible
gain in climbing to meet an enemy or enemies who could hear the
noise of approach. It was plain suicide, he declared, and Barney
Oakes was not ready to die.