"But, in the name of reason, Bull, have sense! Lemme talk! I'll tell you what that uncle of yours was--" "Don't talk!" exclaimed Bull Hunter.

"I sort of like you, partner, and it sort of breaks me down to hear you talk.

Don't talk, but listen.
The next time that frog croaks we go for our guns, eh?
That frog off in the marsh!" He had hardly spoken before the ominous sound was heard, and Bull reached for his gun.

For all his bulk of hand and unwieldy arms, the gun came smoothly, swiftly into his hand.

He would have had an ordinary man covered, long before the latter had his gun muzzle-clear of the leather.