Again the rustler aimed, and the gun wavered and shook.

He pulled trigger.

The hammer clicked upon an empty chamber.

With low and gurgling cry of baffled rage Folsom dropped the gun and sank face forward, slowly stretching out.
The red-bearded rustler had leaped behind the stone chimney that all but hid his body.

The position made it difficult for him to shoot because his gun-hand was on the inside, and he had to press his body tight to squeeze it behind the corner of ragged stone.