flicker twice. Out shot the sheriff's Colt. And then, and not until then,
did the muzzle of Terry's revolver jerk up. Even after that delay he beat
the sheriff to the trigger. The two shots came almost together, but the
sheriff was already falling when he pulled his trigger, and his aim was
wild.

"He dropped on one side, the revolver flying out of his hand. I started
forward, and then I stopped. By heaven, the sheriff had stretched out his
arm and picked up his gun again. He was not through fighting.

"A bulldog spirit, you say? Yes! And what could I do? It was the
sheriff's right to keep on fighting as long as he wished. And it was the
right of Terence to shoot the man full of holes the minute his hand
touched the revolver again.

"I could only stand still. I saw the sheriff raise his revolver. It was
an effort of agony. But he was still trying to kill. And I nerved myself
and waited for the explosion of the gun of Terence. I say I nerved myself
for that shock, but the gun did not explode. I looked at him in wonder.
My friends, he was putting up his gun and quietly looking the sheriff in
the eye!

"At that I shouted to him, I don't know what. I shouted to the sheriff
not to fire. Too late. The muzzle of the gun was already tilting up, the
barrel was straightening. And then the gun fell from Minter's hand and he
dropped on his side. His strength had failed him at the last moment.

"But I say, sirs, that what Terence Hollis did was the finest thing I
have ever seen in my life, and I have seen fine things done by gentlemen
before. There may be unpleasant associations with the name of Terry's