"But, maybe, they's another way." He drew back a little, raised his right leg, and smashed the heavy cowhide boot against the door.

The wood split from top to bottom, and Bull's leg was driven on through the aperture.

He paused to wrench the fragments of the door from lock and hinges and then beckoned to Pete Reeve.

"Look for your gun in here, Reeve." The little man cast one twinkling glance at his companion and then was instantly among the litter of the closet floor.

He emerged strapping a belt about him, the holster tugging far down, so that the muzzle of the gun was almost at his knee.