"
With three strides Bucky reached the wall, and turned.
"Let 'er go," his gentle voice murmured.
He was leaning back easily against the wall, his thumb hitched
carelessly in the revolver pocket of his worn leather chaps. He
looked at ease, every jaunty inch of him, but a big bronzed
cattleman who had just pushed his way in noticed that the frosty
blue eyes never released for an instant those of the enemy.
The bully at the table passed an uncertain hand over his face to
clear his blurred vision, poised the cruel blade in his hand, and
sent it flashing forward with incredible swiftness. The steel
buried itself two inches deep in the soft pine beside Bucky's
head. So close had it shaved him that a drop of blood gathered
and dropped from his ear to the floor.
"Good shot," commented the ranger quietly, and on the instant his
revolver seemed to leap from its holster to his hand. Without
raising or moving his arm in the least, Bucky fired.
Again a murmur eddied through the crowd. The bullet had neatly
bored the bully's ear. He raised his hand in dazed fashion and
brought it away covered with blood.
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