I'm not.

You won't shoot the lady, I know.

And for myself I'll take my chance." "Guess you won't be any the worse for that," grinned Nixon, at his elbow.
Warden's smile gleamed for an instant in answer, but he passed swiftly on.

"Did you ever hear of a cattle-thief called Buckskin Bill?
He flourished in these parts some five years ago.

There was no mine in Barren Valley then.