In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on a level with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through his head-gear and into the opposite wall made him wish that there had been constructed a cellar, also.
"Hi-le, hi-lo" intruded upon his ear, as Mr.Cassidy got rid of the surplus of his heart's joy.

Another stone the size of a man's foot shaved Mr.Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest his enemy.
"Hibernate, blank yu!" derisively shouted the human catapult as he released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail.

"Draw in yore laigs an' buck," was his God-speed to the missile.
"Hey, yu!" indignantly yowled Mr.Travennes from his defective storm cellar.

"Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway ?" "Hi-le, hi-lo," sang Mr.Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in the direction of the complainant.

Then he stood erect and awaited results with a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole.