He flopped over dead as a door nail, an' then I popped away a couple o' times at the others.
One fell down, an' I thought I got him, but did n't wait to make sure; just turned and hoofed it fer cover, knowin' the storm would hide my trail.

I 'd got the man I went after, an' just natch'ally did n't give er whoop what become o' the rest.

As I went down the bank I heard 'em shootin' so I knowed some wus alive yet an' it would be better fer me to crawl inter my hole an' lie still." Hamlin sat motionless, staring at the man, not quite able to comprehend his character.

Killing was part of the western code, and he could appreciate Hughes' eagerness for revenge, but the underlying cowardice in the man was almost bewildering.

Finally he got up, swept the revolver on the bench into his pocket, walked over, and picked up the gun.
"Now, Hughes," he said quietly.