Lucky for me the shaft was a little on the drift, so she didn't quite shoot my way.

But she distributed about a ton over those renegades.

They sort of half got to their feet uncertain.
"Otra vez!" yells I once more, as bold as if I could keep her shooting all day.
It was just a cold, raw blazer; and if it didn't go through I could see me as an Apache parlour ornament.

But it did.

Those Chiricahuas give one yell and skipped.