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yards—ten—eight—six—five—and a flurry of smoke. There had been no movement to the eyes of the watchers—just smoke, and the flat reports, that came to them like two beats of a snare drum's roll. Then they saw Bill step back as the Weasel pitched forward. He raised his eyes to meet them and nodded. "Come on, get th' cayuses. We gotta round up th' herd afore it scatters," he shouted.
Red leaned against Skinny and laughed senselessly. "Ain't he a d—d fool?"
Skinny stirred and nodded. "He shore is; but come on. I don't want no argument with him."
