"Yes," I answered.

"Wal," said he, making a move to pass me, "I reckon I'll slip in and take
what I've a mind to, and move on."

Now I liked the man's looks very much, but I did not know what he would
do. So I got in his way and clutched the gun. It was loaded, but not
primed, and I emptied a little powder from the flask in the pan. At that
he grinned.

"You're a good boy, sonny," he said. "Do you reckon you could hit me if
you shot?"

"Yes," I said. But I knew I could scarcely hold the gun out straight
without a rest.

"And do you reckon I could hit you fust?" he asked. At that I laughed,
and he laughed.

"What's your name?"

I told him.

"Who do you love best in all the world?" said he.

It was a queer question. But I told him Polly Ann Ripley.

"Oh!" said he, after a pause. "And what's SHE like?"