170
THE TREY O' HEARTS
sat down heavily on a camp-chair and mopped his brow, while the lights of the locomotive dropped swiftly back into the gloaming. The fact that several of the figures grouped round it continued to fire their revolvers at the fast-departing special troubled him not at all.
"If any of those guys," he assured Mr. Law presently, "could hit a barn door with a Gatling gun at twenty paces—well, I wouldn't be proving myself the giddy ass I am by sticking to your ill-starred fortunes. There wouldn't be any to stick to, because you'd have been snuffed out long, long ago—with all the chances they've had to blow your fool head off!"
