"Why don't you go on if you're goin' to ?" Sam lowered his arm.

"I guess I didn't have her cocked," he said apologetically, whereupon Penrod loudly jeered.
"Tryin' to shoot a revolaver and didn't know enough to cock her! If I didn't know any more about revolavers than that, I'd--" "There!" Sam exclaimed, managing to draw back the hammer until two chilling clicks warranted his opinion that the pistol was now ready to perform its office.

"I guess she'll do all right to suit you THIS time!" "Well, whyn't you go ahead, then; you know so much!" And as Sam raised his arm, Penrod again turned away his head and placed his forefingers in his ears.
A pause followed.
"Why'n't you go ahead ?" Penrod, after waiting in keen suspense, turned to behold his friend standing with his right arm above his head, his left hand over his left ear, and both eyes closed.
"I can't pull the trigger," said Sam indistinctly, his face convulsed as in sympathy with the great muscular efforts of other parts of his body.
"She won't pull!" "She won't ?" Penrod remarked with scorn.

"I'll bet _I_ could pull her." Sam promptly opened his eyes and handed the weapon to Penrod.
"All right," he said, with surprising and unusual mildness.

"You try her, then." Inwardly discomfited to a disagreeable extent, Penrod attempted to talk his own misgivings out of countenance.
"Poor 'ittle baby!" he said, swinging the pistol at his side with a fair pretense of careless ease.