Possibly I might prefer to pass out from this world in some other manner, but that's merely a matter of individual taste, and just now there does n't seem to be very much choice left me.

Consequently, upheld by my acquired philosophy, and encouraged by the rectitude of my past conduct, I 'm merely holding back one shot for myself, as a sort of grand finale to this fandango, and another for that little girl out yonder." These words were uttered slowly, the least touch of a lazy drawl apparent in the low voice, yet there was an earnest simplicity pervading the speech which somehow gave it impressiveness.

The man meant exactly what he said, beyond the possibility of a doubt.

The old soldier, accustomed to every form of border eccentricity, gazed at him with disapproval.
"Either you 're the coolest devil I 've met during thirty years of soldiering," he commented, doubtfully, "or else the craziest.

Who are you, anyhow?
I half believe you might be Bob Hampton, of Placer." The other smiled grimly.