But I seen the
red spurtin' of his guns, en' heard his shots jest the very
littlest instant before I heard the shots of the riders. An' when
I turned, Wright an' Carter was down, en' Jengessen, who's tough
like a steer, was pullin' the trigger of a wabblin' gun. But it
was plain he was shot through, plumb center. An' sudden he fell
with a crash, an' his gun clattered on the floor.
"Then there was a hell of a silence. Nobody breathed. Sartin I
didn't, anyway. I saw Lassiter slip a smokin' gun back in a belt.
But he hadn't throwed either of the big black guns, an' I thought
thet strange. An' all this was happenin' quick--you can't imagine
how quick.
"There come a scrapin' on the floor an' Dyer got up, his face
like lead. I wanted to watch Lassiter, but Dyer's face, onct I
seen it like thet, glued my eyes. I seen him go fer his gun--why,
I could hev done better, quicker--an' then there was a thunderin'
shot from Lassiter, an' it hit Dyer's right arm, an' his gun went
off as it dropped. He looked at Lassiter like a cornered
sage-wolf, an' sort of howled, an' reached down fer his gun. He'd
jest picked it off the floor an' was raisin' it when another
thunderin' shot almost tore thet arm off--so it seemed to me. The
gun dropped again an' he went down on his knees, kind of
flounderin' after it. It was some strange an' terrible to see his
awful earnestness. Why would such a man cling so to life? Anyway,
he got the gun with left hand an' was raisin' it, pullin' trigger
in his madness, when the third thunderin' shot hit his left arm,
an' he dropped the gun again.
Pages:
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373