"Lime, you're the best man that walks this State." "Git out of the way, you white-livered hound, or I'll blow hell out o' yeh," said Steve, who had recovered himself sufficiently to know what it all meant.

He lay upon the grass behind the rest and was weakly trying to get his revolver sighted upon Lime.

One of the men caught him by the shoulder and the rest yelled: "Hyare, Steve, no shootin'.

It was a fair go, and you're whipped." Steve only repeated his warnings to get out of the way.

Lime turned upon him and kicked the weapon from his outstretched hand, breaking his arm at the wrist.